


Scarlet Spring

by starrymeis (meiqis)



Series: Silver, Gold & Scarlet [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Historical Inaccuracy, Kind of slow burn but not really, King Arthur AU, M/M, Magical Realism, Royalty, Smut, Swordfighting, Violence, merge of a few tropes and tales
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:40:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 72,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23950948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meiqis/pseuds/starrymeis
Summary: Having spent his life fighting in a little town so unimportant it was not even named, Jaehyun would have anticipated anything but to have the crowned prince walking into his life and asking for his life. Even less did he expect himself accepting the request but the many things that followed his decision did not only shape his life but also his heart, until it seemed to perfectly fit into Johnny's hands.
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Series: Silver, Gold & Scarlet [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1726642
Comments: 44
Kudos: 135





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bergam0t](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bergam0t/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a story I am very proud to finally present after working at it for the most of April now! It's a present for lovely, lovely, TALENTED [Jiani](https://twitter.com/n_ikuman) and I do hope she and all of you will enjoy it too!
> 
> Those who are familiar with me know it is inspired by this [LOVELY fanart](https://twitter.com/n_ikuman/status/1241065388156346369?s=19) and the continuous mentions of the new King Arthur movie that inspired me to write [this drabble](https://twitter.com/starrymeis/status/1241766588199600129?s=19) this story is based on, too.
> 
> That said, for those who did not watch it yet: do it! It's honestly such a great movie, I think I've re-watched it 2-3 times whenever it was on TV here, and the movie's visuals in combination with Kick It! also inspired a lot of what I imagined while writing it.  
> Simultaneously, it is a re-interpretation of the King Arthur legend but with some twists so I do hope nothing will be too predictable, actually. 
> 
> For now, I hope you can enjoy the first part of this story and I wish you a good read!
> 
>  **trigger warning** \- old-fashioned fight club. fighting. minor injuries. mentions of alcohol and sex.

There wasn’t much to do at porttown, one of the few the country was blessed with yet, undeserving of a name despite being located at the mouth of the river splitting their lands in two. Those who halted here, at the last stop ahead of the open sea, weren’t looking for food or further goods, they yearned for one last night of amusement or rest, their sails pulled up and anchors down, their wishes were deprived and frivolous.

It must be for that reason their town consisted of three major buildings and a few surrounding houses, places for the workers not directly engaged to sleep at. No school, no church, no townhouse, they were a debauched little city, serving only to three of a man’s essential needs: booze, boobs, blood. A tavern with storages greater than the dining area, a bathhouse with more women than soap, a gymnasium in the oldest possible meaning with more red soaked into sand than flowed in their bodies. 

The last one, the academy training them in anything physical, was where Jaehyun had found home for as long as he could remember. Memories he had from before being abandoned on the steps were hazy, blurred images and distorted words, and they didn’t exactly get any better as he got hit against the head once again. Sicheng really liked to fuck him over like this. 

His feet staggered to the left, blood pooled in his mouth and soaked the sand once he spat it out. Not another tooth, not yet, but eating would become a hassle for a few days based on how hard he had bitten the inside of his cheek. He loved Sicheng, it was something he would unashamedly admit to, the other had grown up in this shithole of a place they called home along with him, but once in a blue moon, he was also dead tired of the younger and this darned flexibility.

With a heavy grunt, he caught the next kick, arm hooking around his friend’s leg who didn’t seem to be surprised. This was already routine between them, after all. A quick twist of his limbs and he had the lightweight crushing to the floor, not sparing him another moment as he slid to his knees and used his own body mass to keep the slighter forced to the ground. Proximity had their mingling breaths turn into a single cloud, the sand felt cold against his exposed skin but must be worse for Sicheng laying in it. Around them, people started to cheer but the sole thing that really mattered was Yuta’s decisive clapping of hands, signaling the end of their fight.

Wine and meat, they had earned their share of lunch for the day thanks to the few coins tossed at them, an upgrade from the shitty tea and rice they’d be served otherwise. Many more would rain upon them later, by the time dawn fell upon them, only to increase with the darkness engulfing them. The more these men drank, the more willing they were to spend, the more risks they wanted to take too, and one too many had thought too high of himself. 

To them, those who had grown up in this sort of academy, those were easy prey, drunk and no longer in control of their limbs, brutes who thought strength was sufficient to win a fight only to end with their loss, and the coins tossed always belonged to the winner, too. 

With his hand held out, he pulled Sicheng up and towards the benches at the side, where Renjun was already awaiting them, a blanket in his hands to engulf the beaten fighter in a warm embrace. Jaehyun simply shook his hand in denial, not needing the worn down cotton when Yuta was already calling for him again. Worry sparked in the kid’s eyes, the only sign of an emotion and one he had learned to read well throughout the years, were something he had to rely on because the foreign boy refused to speak. It wasn’t that Renjun couldn’t, the older had caught Sicheng and the kid whispering at the dead of night a few times already, it was a matter of the mind his best friend had told him once.

With one last glimpse at the boy, he took his leave and set foot on the sandy ground once again. On the other side of the field, Jeno did the same, and Jaehyun already grunted in annoyance. From the way the younger looked past him, though, he already knew that, no matter the result of the fight, they both had the same goal in mind - pay Renjun a meal, for he refused to fight for money up to this time. 

  
▁⛥⌒*ﾟ.  


His whole body ached as he was thrown to the ground, the force having him tumbling over once, and again, until he was on his back again. Above him, the stars sparkled brightly, unfortunately, it was not only blinding white but also red and yellow bursts that he could see, temporarily thrown off by the impact with which he had been handled. 

This was already his third fight this night, and his body started to ache from the strain and the blows he had taken, albeit there was no helping this now. The moment he had stepped down into the sand filled yard, he had contracted victory, had seen the demand for it in Yuta’s eyes whose look was burning his skin now, too, and enough to motivate him to get up. He still felt dizzy, faltered in his steps, and no matter the amount of head shaking he did, it didn’t fade away. Shit, a blow of that caliber really wasn’t what he needed currently…

Barely so did he managed to catch sight of Jeno’s panicked expression when another blow to the stomach had him reeling over, and nearly forced the stew eaten earlier up his throat again. With some heavy breaths he tried to gain control again and, unfortunately, his opponent had made one fatal mistake by coming this close once again. His fingers curled tight around the sunburnt arm of the sailor, nails digging into the rough skin to get a better hold, and when the older man tried to pull back, he was already trapped.

From below, Jaehyun grinned at his victim, ignoring the blood dripping from his split lip. Close like this, victory was inevitably his, and that man should have stopped in time. Sometimes trying to finish off a dying lion meant losing the hand holding the knife, and the fighter was far from dying.

Not having lost his speed, he slid one foot across the sand and aimed definitely at the older’s ankle, instantly feeling it give way under the force, as he dropped his body weight down at the same time, effectively throwing the taller man over his shoulder and to the ground. From where he was still holding onto that offensive arm, he kept the sailor in place, and twirled around, his bare sole pressed against the bull’s neck with just enough pressure to make breathing harder. Albeit not deadly or neck breaking, if there was a wrong movement from the stranger, he would risk both intentional and unintentional stepping down on the windpipes and that would definitely lead to damage the beaten guy wouldn’t want to risk. 

Too much pride goes before the fall, and those who had thought they would win with an abundance of injuries had clearly never thought an injured animal, only becoming fiercer the more blood they lost. All of them were trained like this, to become more and more ruthless the more assured of their victories their enemies were. Catch them off guard, use methods they didn’t expect, fight dirty if must be, because the life outside wouldn’t spare any of them either. 

His breathing still came out too harshly and dots burst in front of his eyes, made it difficult for him to see, and for a moment there, Jaehyun even missed out on Yuta’s clap signaling for the end of their fight. With a delay, he stepped back, and lightly bowed to the stranger on the ground before he turned his back on the fighting rink. Knowing Renjun, the younger had already collected today’s share of money for him, put into the little box that carried his name, the owners shares deducted. 

One of his feet was already off the sand, two feet above the ground on the wooden planks framing the yard, when he heard the clamor from the entrance, not just simple noise, no, what had him frowning was the simple fact that there was the drubbing of horse shoes on the stones. Riders were seldom, scratch that, the amount of times horses had crossed their town could likely be counted on one hand and that was throughout the whole of his life. They were expensive, and none of them was that kind of rich, they were only filthy, dirt on the street, the outcasts in a deranged city. 

In their country, there was a saying of the proximity to the capital deciding one’s fate, and port town was all the way across the country, far away from it, where poverty reigned and fists ruled. Probably they were even to be considered lucky to make business of their own, albeit it was the cheap kind of. In the beginning, it had made him feel pathetic, like a beggar in the streets, before Yuta and wise words had crossed his way. Nowadays it was easier to handle, and, at the same time, he had no idea what to do with rich people suddenly coming to their town, it simply made no sense.

His gaze darted over to their oldest member of the night, focusing on the snow-white haired rather than on who exactly was arriving. Yuta’s expression would tell him more than any stranger’s expression ever could anyways.

Silence ensued across their establishment as the clopping came to a halt and their referee’s face turned cold, feelings hidden behind a stiff mask. Now they had Jaehyun’s interest, no one had ever managed to make their charismatic caretaker assume composure like this, and he allowed his eyes to travel, towards the five horses located just outside their gates, reigns held by an older boy as if those animals weren’t the possibly most expensive goods in a several miles radius, ships excluded. Ships were off-limits anyways, it was the town’s unwritten rules.

The crowd parted for only three individuals, dressed in fine fabrics and smooth furs, looking entirely too worthy for these derailed streets, not to mention what an unfit look it was for a fighting arena. It was such a striking contrast to their clothes, too, with Yuta dressed maybe the finest out of all of them, cotton and linen layered thick, a vest of rabbit fur keeping away the worst of the winter’s cold, while the fighters, just like Jaehyun right now, were void of most their dressings. Winter’s cold, after all these years, had become but a steady companion to them. 

Three strangers, they were way out of his league and for as long as they didn’t want to fight, it was none of his concern anyways. He was off for the night, a reminder he had to pull up for himself as he shifted his weight and climbed up onto the wooden boards serving as gallery for those watching and fighting. Heave himself up, place his foot on the second step, he felt more than he saw the eyes pinning his frame, and froze at the words that followed. “It’s him, Youngho. The one.”

Which… He didn’t even have words for it, to describe how nonsensical these words were. He had no business with the rich and the royals, had grown up in this academy and he was not set on leaving unless he had all his friends and companions in tow. Even then, they had nowhere else to go. Stuck, that’s what they were. What nonsense.

A snort filled with all but positive emotions left his lips at the mere thought of interacting with these men, and his intent to leave only grew. Only, something unthinkable happened, as he found his feet frozen in place, moving forth felt like pushing against iron gates, his body trapped, and then, right the moment after, he was flying backwards. This time it wasn’t for a hit he took that he crashed into the sand and slid across it, until he was closer to the entrance than he had been all night long.

“Fuck…” He groaned, rolling onto his front first, before he pushed himself up into a standing position, feeling awfully reminded of mere minutes ago. Fighting against another man, hands their only weapons, at least made for an even fight, put them at an equal standing more than the white haired stranger’s clenched fist suggested they could ever be. It didn’t take a genius to recognize what it was, that magic had replaced the blood in the man’s veins, an unfair advantage against someone like him.

“Lee Taeyong!” Yuta called out, leaning against his crutch, and Jaehyun recognized the warning tone. From wherever their supervisor knew this stranger, it didn’t seem to be a too pleasant acquaintanceship anymore. “Did they not teach you to not kick someone when they’re already down? Can you not see he’s injured?”

“I wonder whose fault this is,” the magician sneered back in detestation, loosening his grip despite the harsh words, meaning Jaehyun was finally allowed to breathe easier. At least as easy as he could possibly breath after being thrown around like a ragdoll. “You’ve kept him hidden for years when he isn’t even yours, Yuta. Hand him over.”

“You’re right,” their local snowy haired answered, the foreigner’s eyes turning colder by the second, “He’s not mine. Neither is he yours.”

From his spot, Jaehyun had a first row seat to the intruder parting his lips, ready for a retaliation, but it was his own raised hand that stopped the reply from taking shape. “I’m nobody’s,” he declared, a frown on his face. Around them, more people had allocated, attracted by the spectacle and the question behind what someone noble might be looking for in these quarters. The mere idea of it being Jaehyun... it was laughable!

“And yet,” the witcher spoke again, golden eyes directed at him, “you’re here, fighting away like a slave while he” - the hand pointed past the fighter, at Yuta - “knew better of your fate.”

“He’s not what you’re looking for, Taeyong,” the referee spoke up behind him, and this whole thing of talking about him in his company as if he were… a thing, something to own, drove him crazy already. It didn’t pair well with his dizziness, even less with the headache that came along with it. Honestly, Jaehyun just wished they would shut up and stop attracting attention when it wasn’t even the good kind of, lacking jumping coins he depended on.

Amidst the white haired men’s staring duel, it was the tallest who spoke up, and the words had Jaehyun’s head snapping up, along with a cold shiver that ran down his spine, “How much for his freedom?”

“Oh!” The grin was palpable in Yuta’s voice, despite lacking its usual warmth, and the spoken about man could imagine it all too well, the way their guide was leaning onto the crutch as if it were a balcony railing, interest piqued regardless of all offense. “You see, my Lord, there lies the problem: He doesn’t owe the Academy any money. He’s here voluntarily, and it’s up to him when he leaves. Isn’t that right, Jaehyunnie?”

Finally, they had hit rock bottom of the situation, the one undeniable fact, and with his friends’ eyes drilling holes into his back, filled with curiosity and intent, the dizzy man didn’t feel ashamed of his lack of respect towards the noblemen. Looking for the seemingly black holes of the tallest man’s eyes, the one who had mentioned his freedom, he carefully weighed off his options. Eventually, he only came down to one, the only one, and there was no way he would even consider leading his brothers behind.

“I don’t talk to people afraid of using their fists, Sir,” he stated before turning around. This time, there was no inhuman force holding him back, albeit he grew the suspicion that was on Yuta and not the man named Taeyong. His head hurt, his body ached, and he yearned for a bath next door. Anything else, he would consider that later. 

  
  


A soaked towel came down on his back, rubbing away at the tensions in his nape and shoulders from where they peaked up above water level. How gentle the movement of hands against his skin was sufficed to give away Mark’s identity. “It’s not even dawning, Jaehyun. What are you doing here?”

“The usual,” he muttered, and leaned further forward, wrapping his arms around his pulled up knees. The wee hours of the night were the only time he could possibly intrude in the bathhouse without getting reprimanded by the owner anyways, hating to see fighters around, scaring the girls, as if they hadn’t all grown up together, as if the bunch of males they were didn’t help out for those with… special needs. 

With Mark, he didn’t have to explain, considering how well they knew each other, for how long they had shared a room before Jaehyun had managed to pay off the debt of Mark’s family towards the owner of the Academy, thus, buying the younger’s freedom. Never had he told that to his friend, neither had the owner, and albeit he had his suspicions the younger knew, neither of them brought it up. All that mattered was that, with his following job at the bathhouse, the boy had become happier. Sure, catering to whores and their tricks wasn’t the most pleasant job, having to keep watch of the baths fit the youngster better than injuring friends and strangers alike.

Sleep had never come easy to Jaehyun, more often than not, it was accompanied by weird dreams, leaving him feeling more exhausted in the morning than he had been at night. His refugee, knowing Mark gave him a free pass, had been the bathhouse ever since, to just listen to the trickling water, taste the humidity on his tongue, feel the warmth around his skin, that was calming enough. With the added trouble of their visitors, it hadn’t become easier, it had been all the town’s people and visitors had been talking about this night, and it had made him uncomfortable enough to not want to go out anymore, going as far as skipping dinner albeit he gave some of his earnings to Jeno, to treat Renjun and Mark alike.

“The travelers are staying in one of the rooms,” the younger started, cloth going slower and tracing carefully along the multiple scratches adorning Jaehyun’s skin from where the sand had grated against his flesh too rough. It didn’t come as surprise, the rooms in the bathhouse were nicer than those at the tavern, mostly used by the drunk traders and sailors wanting to enjoy a bed for one last time, but also more expensive, for they had to cover the costs of the whores kicked out and business lost. 

Why exactly Mark brought it up wasn’t unclear, everyone knew what - who - they were here for, but the following information was of greater interest, “Yuta also came by. He fought with the white haired guy, said something about destiny and prophecies.” The younger stopped his movements, letting out a helpless sigh. “Jaehyunnie, why are they actually here? What do they actually want?”

The fighter slowly took a breath, inhaling deeply, aroma of roses in his nose. “I don’t know,” he uttered, and he really didn’t. Undoubtedly, their friend knew, not only why they were looking for Jaehyun but also what it entailed. “But Yuta never harmed us. Let him handle this.”

  
▁⛥⌒*ﾟ.  


“I don’t like these guys,” Jeno stated, and it went without question who was meant by these words simply by the direction the younger looked at. Many people would get intimidated by the fighter, arms bulging, face grim, but to Jaehyun it was endearing because he could see the little signs of sulking on the boy who had joined them years ago. The way the younger’s lower lip wobbled in denial to form a pout, the nervously tapping fingers, tense legs. Jeno wasn’t ready to fight, rather, the boy was about to bolt and hide in a corner from the cruelty that was life and Renjun missing from his side.

During the night, Mark had caught him up on what he had missed, and it didn’t only include the fight between Yuta and that magician, Taeyong. There was also the fact that the noblemen hadn’t picked on anyone, on the opposite, they had kept to themselves over a meal, and only one of them, the supposed youngest, had pulled away to socialize. Somehow, that had been with their silent protege, of all people, and it had both of the boys he kept track of spiking with jealousy since.

From the side, Yuta approached them, a swirl of emotions in his bronzen irises that Jaehyun wasn’t able to decode, and he didn’t even get a chance to question it. Behind him, as he was still busy applying the bandages for training around his knuckles, an unknown but familiar voice called out, “You said you won’t talk to people afraid of using their fists, right? So what if I challenge you now?”

_ “How much for his freedom?” _

Those words had echoed his mind since the previous night, haunted him, and were part of the reason he hadn’t been able to sleep. Now, that same voice only further aggravated him, all too easily with the restlessness that came from lacking sleep. He might be excused from this night’s fight because of his injuries but the same didn’t apply for training. 

With scrutinizing eyes, he took in the older’s form who, at least, had adapted to their circumstances quickly. Bare feet, jacket abandoned, no furs decorating broad shoulders. Under different circumstances, Jaehyun would have considered the stranger as handsome, one of those customers at the brothel he wouldn’t have minded taking care of for the right sum. The previously so arduously covered up body was now revealed in the cold winter air, finely woven cotton shirt a bit loose, not enough to hide the muscles underneath. 

“You’re interrupting our training hours. If you want to pick a fight, it’s not me you’ll have to talk to,” Jaehyun denied, and at the stranger’s confused expression - unfortunately reminding him of a kitten, and he had always been weak towards animals, the bane of his existence, the very reason he had accepted Mark and Jeno in his life, too - he tilted his head in Yuta’s direction. 

The referee looked amused, and also way more relaxed than the previous night. With the crutch used as support, he leaned forward in interest, and stated, “By no means let me hinder you, Sir. I’ve always had a thing for royal blood getting spilled.”

From across the court, where the strangers sat, a cheerful “You can do this, Youngho!” was perceived, and Yuta’s eyes light up with a different force. The tension in the air passing over Jaehyun like a single stream of water made him all too aware of the battle of invisible powers, the two snow haired man fighting for dominance over the yard once more. Oddly enough, the mere fact that their friend was a magician and had it hidden from them all for years didn’t irk him as much as it should. These signs of irritation he got from magic being used were new, a dead giveaway for the referee to have stayed true to his beliefs of his rule, not aiding anyone to cheat unwillingly. It was more than Jaehyun could have asked for.

This time, he didn’t hesitate as he jumped down into the yard, too, sand freezing cold against his bare feet, wet and clinging to his skin. For a moment, he curled his toes into it, tested how firm it was this morning, affected by winter’s breath, and fixed the last piece of linen around his wrist, tying it into a knot. The royal, if Yuta’s words were true, had no such protective gear, and the fighter doubted it was a necessity either way. He didn’t need the protection of the cloth, not when it was right the other way around. 

On the court, there was no royal blood or begging mouth, there was no holding back, so Jaehyun didn’t either. Slowly, as a warning, he took one, then two steps forward and, with one and a half more between them, he rushed in. Changing speeds was always a good tactics, caught his opponents off-guard, and so was the same with the taller who took the hook thrown as a surprise. With his left hand, the fighter grabbed the taller man’s neck in the moment of distraction, and pulled him towards him and down at once, finishing off his attack with a sturdy kick against the ribs that had the stranger flying to the ground within a second. 

A quick succession of attacks that had barely taken more than a moment and evidently been too fast for anyone to catch up, with the magician’s surprised noise about the nobleman falling was anything to go by. Behind him, he could hear Yuta sneer in amusement, and the same feeling was crawling up his guts. Exhaustion was creeping up on him again, and dealing with these invaders of his safe haven thinking they were better than them was nothing he wanted to deal with, so he wanted to finish this quickly. 

Twisted cruelty had him waiting until the royal was standing again, a bit weakly with the slippery sand and the bruise on the ribs, and in his weird ways, Jaehyun showed mercy. Dropping his body into a crouch, he darted his one leg forth to swipe the other off his feet in the truest meaning of these words, and this time he made sure to not let his opponent get up again. Forcing the taller onto his front, hands fixed to the ground, he pressed his knee between the man’s shoulder blades and used his whole weight to keep him pinned into the moist ground.

His breath came out as little clouds, warmed up from the short exercise, as it collided with the stranger’s ear and the shivers that wrecked the body underneath him might be from sensitivity or cold, or both. Jaehyun didn’t care. “Don’t pick fights with someone you can’t best, and save yourself some dignity.”

Yuta’s clap was all he needed to get up and free the noble from his weight, the harshly sucked in breath didn’t go unnoticed by his ears. To earn a kick to the chest and get his lungs compressed was never comfortable, regardless of whether one was used to it or not. Normally, he would help his comrades up during these hours but a royal passing by with his horses, regarding himself so highly, wasn’t someone he wanted to treat with kindness yet.

“Wait! Jaehyun-”

Immediately, the fighter spinned on his toes, looking at the man with all the offense he could possibly put into his eyes. He hadn’t even introduced himself to the stranger, yet to mention having his opponent introduce himself, so how dare he use his name without permission?

His feelings must be all too evident in his expression for the taller quickly backtracked, an amiable smile on his lips. “Let’s talk. We used our fists so can’t we have a conversation now?”

“Wrong,” Jaehyun answered, eyebrows pulled together in a frown, “I used my fists and you lost. Renjun!” The boy who, yet again, sat with the strangers, with the tan kid’s hands on his shoulders, startled at being called but the kid was brave, one of the few who didn’t falter under his gaze at any occasion. “Would you mind explaining these men when they’re able to talk to me?”

Silent by will, the foreigner hesitated for a moment before freeing himself of the hold he had been under by the stranger, and approached the court. With ease, he jumped down, landing without so much as an imprint left behind on the sand, an ease none of them could copy, even Sicheng struggled with because of the greater weight. Elegant steps to approach the two adults and then, without a warning, he spun through the air.

The kick hit Jaehyun faster than he had originally anticipated, the tumbling always made it hard to figure the direction, and it had him stumbling to the sides a few feet. Leave it to the youngsters to be cheeky, Renjun only added further mimicry by using the same move the older had, crouching down and swinging his leg in a half-circle, effectively sending the more experienced fighter to the ground. For a second there, he regretted to have asked the youngster, of all people, to demonstrate how to beat him despite all his thoughts, and he did admit to having had ulterior movements.

When his eyes opened again, they darted over to Jeno, seeing his protege more relaxed, arms still tensed where they were crossed against his chest, the digital twitching had stopped, and those innocent eyes were curving upwards in lieu of a smile. Getting beaten by the silenced boy had been a choice he had made for the other kid, to prove to Jeno that, against all odds, Renjun still belonged to them. Not to some noblemen passing by. That alone had been worth it, but the royal’s forlorn expression was the meat to his rice. Taller than Jaehyun, he had lost, but a lightweight as Renjun had won. If that wasn’t a blow to the pride, nothing else possibly was.

Complying with their usual display of respected towards each other, the younger held out his hand to Jaehyun who took it, allowing himself to be pulled upwards. Renjun only gave him a quick once over and a displeased huff, enough to tell the older to not make a mascot of him like this again. If no more stubborn strangers showed up anytime soon, it likely wouldn’t happen again either. 

“Would you at least listen to me then?” The royal asked, still obstinate, and it was giving Jaehyun a headache already. Couldn’t they see he was not interested? That he did not want to leave this place he called home? “Let me treat you a meal! I’m not asking for more than for you to sit down and listen to me, and maybe it will change your-”

One foot perched on the elevated step, the fighter released a long breath, prior to turning his head. At this point, the nobleman looked nothing like a noble anymore, the sand had left wet patches on his clothes, fabric sticking to tan skin, and an inebriated Jaehyun might have been tempted by it. This was a debauched town, after all, and the things others would frown upon were normal to them. Men lying with men, women with women. What he knew to be a scandal in the better parts of the country hardly mattered to them. 

“Didn’t I tell you to save some of your dignity?” He asked, and his question alone sufficed to make the taller stop in his tracks. What an easy man he was… At the end of the day, that’s all they were, all of them - men. Driven by pride, greed, and instincts. The latter was the greatest selling point of their home, the urge to fight and to bed, to drink and to eat. This town had nothing more to offer than that. “If you want to dine with me, you have to win me over. Bribing is a shortcut that doesn’t work in places like ours, your highness.”

The last words were nothing but a sneer, yet they seemed deserving, accompanied by Yuta’s suppressed laughter and Jeno trailing after Renjun like a puppy. It was exactly what he had meant when he had said animals were his weakness. Jeno was like a puppy, and if only this stranger would behave more like an obedient little kitten might Jaehyun be more willing to listen to him. 

  
▁⛥⌒*ﾟ.  


The following day, the same pattern repeated - the nobleman asked for a fight, got beaten, and put forth an invitation for a meal. This time, the stranger had learned and extended the offer to the kids and if not for himself, Jaehyun could at least have asked for a bunch of dishes for the others. Jeno, though, stopped him in time. So instead, lunch saw him sitting at the tavern, thoughtlessly stirring the rice in his bowl, and thinking of the amount of times he could possibly fight this night before his headache would get the better of him again.

Throbbing pain, he blamed it on these intruders, and the way the ache didn’t fade the day and some after getting hit in the head, it was a welcome thing to blame these bothersome nobles for. Already had the others caught on to his dull mood, and Sicheng had guided him to the seat at the far end of the table, further away from their bunch’s relentless chatter. All the way on the other end of the hall, he could also see the four men who vexed him so much, discussing whatever wasn’t carried throughout the space between them.

A bit abrupt, the youngest stood up, piquing Jaehyun’s curiosity but before he could catch further sight of it, a body blocked his way, and a cup of steaming tea was placed down in front of him. “Yuta told me to give this to you, Hyunnie.” Followed by the drink, Wendy plopped down on the chair, at ease with most of the patrons being either hungover in bed or not yet drinking. It made for less of the chaos.

She was a pretty woman, and she had taken to all of them, favoring them with kind words when the other nasty bunch usually got threatened with a fist and a knife. Regular diners knew better than to pick a fight with her, though. “These men asked about you, Hyunnie. If that makes you uncomfortable, you know I can just-”

“Don’t,” he answered, gently patting her hands resting on the table before he picked up the tea. It was just like Seungwan to look out for them like this but they had good money, and she and the others tending the tavern deserved better than to be cut some tips for his pettiness. “They’ll leave of their own once they realize I can’t give them whatever it is they want.”

“But that’s the thing,” she sighed, turning her head to look at the four-turned-three, with the golden boy having gone off somewhere, “I think they’re here for you…” Lightly, her brows furrowed in thought, fingers tapping down onto the scratched up wood all at once and for a few times as she evidently weighed off some thoughts. “They wanted to know more about you but…” Jaehyun raised his eyebrows in question and she smiled, “I don’t think there’s much to tell about any of his.”

She wasn’t wrong per se, yet the words had him snorting into his cup all alone. The more he drank of it, the more his headache faded, and this time around he wasn’t above suspecting Yuta of magical intervention. Later he might have to ask about it, if only there was a way to do it without undermining their friendship…

“I told them the obvious. That you’re the best fighter in the Academy and quite sturdy, obsolete in your desires-” Wendy only grinned when he lightly kicked her under the table, releasing a protesting whine as his lips were still glued to the mug, salvaging the warmth and soothing effects. “I said they can’t just win you over with superficial means.” 

Still in thought, she leaned her head against her raised hand, looking at Jaehyun in wonder who didn’t further indulge her prodding. Wendy was a motherly figure to most of them, at least those of them that had been orphaned, so he had gotten used to her intense eyes throughout the years, and took to eating again.

“Eventually, we talked more about the Academy itself than you. What was your longest streak again, Hyunnie?” Amusement tinted her voice as she tried to recall. Jaehyun raised his hands to display the numbers and signaled what he couldn’t say with his mouth stuffed with food.

_ Twenty-nine wins amongst their group _ . It had been broken the day Yuta first pitched him against Renjun.  _ Seventy-four wins against strangers _ . That one had ended one night of dirty fighting, of a group of sailors having sacrificed six so the seventh could finish what the others hadn’t. Rather than nice fighting, it had been more about roughing him up to finally get him down, earning them the one coin per win that had made up the price of his streak. 

The lady released an impressed whistle before she reached out to ruffle up his hair, pride glimmering in her eyes and smile. “That’s my boy. Our little Jaehyunnie!” As she got up, she pulled him into some sort of embrace, face mushed against her side as she caressed his head some more before leaving. 

Opposite him, Sicheng gave him a cold look, merely stating, “I always knew she played favorites.”

  
▁⛥⌒*ﾟ.  


The punch hit him like being run over by a bull, or like Jaehyun thought it would be like to get run over by one. Pain exploded in his face and had him bending to the side, not quite enough to make him fall only for his better sense of balance but the unexpectedness of the hit had him faltering nonetheless. Just minutes ago, Sicheng had warned him of exactly this happening, of his mockery coming to an end when his opponent was still this well trained.

In the recent days, the royal’s fighting style had been predictable, made the simplicity of guarded training evident, that they had a routine to follow. Nearing one week, though, even a nobleman must lose his patience, and this today’s attack, a frontal display of strength, hadn’t at all been what Jaehyun had expected. On the contrary, it seemed they had both gauged the other a bit too much, and his own arrogance had always been his downfall. 

Only he hadn’t expected for it to happen in the most literal of ways, as another hit followed right after and this time had him toppling over. During the night, the temperatures had dropped a notch, the sand stiff as his bare back collided with it, and the hardened structures of the tiny corns scratched against his skin. 

“Fuck…” He grunted, forcing his eyes open despite the impact and just in time too. The royal was going in for a tackle, and it was a last second call he brought up his leg to throw the taller to the side, mounting him for a hold of his own. It was messy, neither of them getting a proper grip on the other as they rolled around the dirt, so Jaehyun had to go with Plan B.

Pushing his opponent away and using the little time getting a distance between them had bought him, the fighter got back onto his feet. Moves like these were unnecessarily prolonging the brawls, one of the main reasons he usually tried to avoid them. Once more, his eyes targeted the nobleman, once more he got surprised, by the other who hadn’t even gotten up yet and used the lower momentum to knock him off his feet.

The wood framing the yard was a tad too close to his head for his liking, with another hit to the head not exactly being what he needed right now, but the little slip of attention was one too many. His wrists were caught by their bigger match, forced down, as were his legs as he tried to use them to get the other off, landing them in a position being nothing short of compromising.

Grating against his back was the still cold sand, a striking contrast to the air charged with heat between him and the stranger. Whose eyes were an alluring hint of brown, reminding him of a sweet treat he had eaten as a kid but, by the gods, could not recall. It had been tasty, that much he knew, but the flavor was lost throughout time as was its name. 

There were just a few inches between their lips as the royal kept his attention tackled with his eyes, making Jaehyun uncomfortable at the moment, had his ears heating up for reasons he forcefully avoided thinking about. More so, he could feel every breath the stranger took, strained despite the brevity of their fight, and it only worsened when the invader spoke up, “Was this enough to have you listen to me?”

Like black powder going off next to his ears, Yuta’s clap startled Jaehyun out of his reveries, quickly making him try to push the greater weight off with an annoyed grunt. He didn’t like this, none of this, all the more because he was a man of word and he didn’t like breaking it. 

Eventually, the stranger took mercy on him and got up, allowing the fighter to roll over and get up, one hand supported on the wooden step. Today, the cold felt worse than it had ever before, made evening fights seem like such a hassle when he especially knew what would come after. Over his shoulder, he gave the royal a once over before turning towards his friends again. “I’ll come by your room at night. Don’t bother me until then.”

Jaehyun didn’t bother to await a reply for he already went back to his friends. Shame crept up his spine, losing had never set well with him, even less with the progress of time and being declared an unspoken champion to the Academy.

His headache, thanks to Yuta’s brewing, faded away once more as his knuckles rapped against the wooden door. “Your body isn’t taking to Taeyong’s magic well,” the witcher had explained after their fight, yet there had been no protest towards this night’s winner facing the inevitable. There had been compassion behind these bronzen orbs, unspoken about apologies the younger couldn’t make sense of, but whatever was concerned, it must have to do with the magician, Taeyong, and his fellow noblemen. An inevitable fate. Sicheng had just patted his shoulder as encouragement. 

The royal had still been around the Academy until some short time ago, watching Jaehyun battle it out with more force than was needed, upset with himself let loose on strangers. His knuckles were bruised and burst, the impact of wood hurt more than that of flesh and bone. Already he was aware he did not want to do this, did not want to have this talk, but what to do, he had already agreed.

Faster than he would have liked, the gates were unhinged, the door opened, and in front of him stood the tall stranger with about as many clothes on his body as during forenoon. Outer layers forsaken, there were only pants and the neat shirt left, replaced by an amiable smile. “I was already fearing you wouldn’t show up...”

Not bothering to reply, the fighter just tried to push past, only to be stopped the moment his injured hand passed the other in an attempt to go inside. His arm was trapped, the stranger’s eyes scrutinizing for all of the second they were allowed to take in the burst skin, until Jaehyun remembered better and yanked his limb free. “I’m here now. Talk.”

A second time he wasn’t stopped as he went inside, foregoing the bed and instead turning to the bench near the window where he plopped his weight down. He had agreed to have a conversation, never had he promised to make it a nice or easy one. Even if it wasn’t his unwillingness, his pride alone would suffice in making him dislike this stranger. Beaten by some high class noble, a royal, of all people… That was shameful indeed. 

Despite the distance between them, all too easily could Jaehyun watch the other’s eyes dart down towards the bruises on his skin, where the blood had dried and felt itchy against his skin. Fighting without bandages most always end like this and if not the pressure of skin is at fault for the breaking skin, hitting teeth most definitely would. 

“Let me take care-” The royal started talking, catching Jaehyun’s glare, and yet the younger feared exhaustion was lessening his expression for the other still went to fetch a cloth and basin. Just without further words.

Already the idea seemed odd, to have a nobleman kneeling in front of him, of all people, yet there they were, with the stranger on the floor and carefully reaching for the injured hands. “I’m sorry for having been so hard on you this morning,” the stranger started, and the mention alone had Jaehyun jerking back his hand. Or, attempting to, for his wrist was caught in a tight grip. He would have loved to protest, instead the noble went on talking, cutting him off, “But it was a necessity. I will need your help, and it is something only you can do. Do get there, I can accept breaking your jaw but not your refusal, Jaehyun.”

“Stop using my name…” Once again, the fighter tried to pull back his hand and in response, the grip around his wrist tightened, kept him in place as water was carefully squeeze from the cloth over his skin. The dried blood partly came off by itself and the stinging of his wounds was easier to bear than if he washed them himself, roughly going over his torn skin as if it were healed. Most often, there were more important things to tend to, rather than being careful with wounds that would return the following night anyways. 

From below, the royal looked at him with carefully assessing eyes, intrigued, maybe curious. Jaehyun had never been too good at reading strangers, had stuck with his friends since his childhood so his social abilities weren’t always the best. In fact, they got worse the rougher his day was, and better based on the amount of alcohol Wendy slipped him. Right now, they might be at about their lowest - it was late at night, he had fought more rounds than he had been supposed to, his head still hurt. Which was, ironically enough, a side effect to these strangers’ arrival, as Yuta had confirmed without further explanation. It did put a little damper to any request this kneeling man might have, though.

At least, and without further ado, he started talking finally. “Seventeen years ago, it was my father who held the right to rule this country. It’s probably a time neither of us remembers well but I do know it was more… colorful, in a way. I’m missing those times, if I may be that honest.”

Story mode being all fine and dandy, Jaehyun couldn’t help but lightly frown. In first place, he hadn’t asked about this man’s life story and surely it should be intimidating, having a prince kneel in front of him, and all the more if he turned out to be the crown prince, if only there weren’t one crucial detail. Namely, he didn’t care much about the crown that didn’t worry about peasants like them, on the outskirts of this country. 

“Until the day my father was usurped by his own brother. Which leads me exactly to you, Jaehyun.” The grip around said man’s bones tightened, bordering just on painful. A lesser man would’ve grunted, wasn’t used to it as much as was the fighter drowning in confusion. “The reason my uncle could succeed was because of your father, and it’s exactly because of that reason I need you. You are the only one who can undo what your father started. Do you understand?”

“No,” Jaehyun answered, and he meant it. He didn’t understand in any way what this has to do with him, simply because, “I’m an orphan. I don’t know anything about my parents so whatever you’re saying, do you think this will work?”

“What I’m saying,” the prince emphasized, the cloth splashed, hitting the basin, and the air charged with tension, “is that your father’s magic is the reason my uncle was able to succeed. It’s tricky magic, running through your family’s blood, and it’s only your blood that can undo what your father did. For the sake of preventing my uncle from enslaving this whole country and going to war with our allies, you have to help me, and break your father’s curse.”

With a frown, the fighter pulled back his hands, finally freeing them from the grip that had bothered him so much. There were a lot of things he didn’t like about this conversation, pinning him with the weight of… whatever, saving the country, nation, it didn’t even matter. It sounded nothing like the life he was supposed to lead, and he didn’t want it. Whatever his supposed father had done, it had nothing to do with him, according to his own point of view.

“You can’t even prove that whatever you’re saying is right,” he eventually retorted as he got up. He had heard enough, and he didn’t want any more of it. He was aching, his head throbbing, his limbs exhausted. He craved for the hot baths downstairs to relax his muscles, not this nonsense. “That I’m the person you’re looking for.”

“Magic doesn’t lie.” The prince’s eyes were intense, tracing his every move yet not physically stopping him. “Taeyong found you because of your blood. Jaehyun. Before your father’s Blood Curse settles, you need to break it. If not for me, do it to protect your friends.”

Only for a moment, Jaehyun stopped at the door, and threw the nobleman a look. “I don’t do anything for strangers but step into a ring. Good night, prince.” 

Behind him, the door fell shut.

  
▁⛥⌒*ﾟ.  


Today’s choice of scent seemed to be the wild roses from the woods, petals soaked and heated in water for days to bring out the aromatic scent, mixing with the lingering traces of the prior flower Jaehyun couldn’t even remember. It filled his mouth and lungs, the heat seeped through his skin, and for once he did not miss Mark’s company around. What the prince had told him had muddled his brain sufficiently, he didn’t need to hear more.

Regardless, there were steps approaching him, his headache intensifying for a moment, feeling like an icicle had pierced through the back of his skull. Already did he anticipate the trustworthy youngster when instead white hair surfaced. As primary instinct, he wanted to call out to Yuta when he had to realize it was not his own friend joining him. Instead, it was the magician who had come along with eyes resembling a dragon’s. They sparkled like liquid gold even in the lesser light of the bath.

“I can’t sleep,” Taeyong spoked in lieu of a greeting, steps careful as they carried him to the same pool Jaehyun resided at. “And neither can you, it seems. You made a promise today, did you keep it?” Not unfriendly, the witcher seemed mostly interested, less invested than during daytime, as he sank into the hot water, a few feet down from its original occupator.

Surprisingly, despite his slighter build, Jaehyun could make out tough muscles even through the steam and maybe he would admit to having underestimated these men. They seemed to be stronger than they appeared. Sicheng had always nagged him for being gullible like this, for going by what he saw and not what might be hidden underneath. 

“I did.” He tightened his hold around his legs, pulled his knees to his chest. “But I did not understand it well.”

The witcher, at that, laughed brightly. The sound didn’t rumble like thunder nor did it screech like a dying bird but it was uncomfortable, reverberating from the walls. “Johnny must have been quite eager then! Though, I do guess he got his point across, didn’t he? We need your help, Jaehyun, and it’s only you who can do it.”

Staring at the witcher, he slowly blinked. What had it been the prince - Johnny - had mentioned? His blood? It made no sense… Then again, never had he studied magic before, it was too outworldly for their means. They all knew it existed, yes, they had just never met anyone known to practice it. Or so they thought, at least. Yuta had been around for years, after all.

“Your father - and you - have a very unique ability, you know? Quite the interesting sort of magic it is. Blood magic. It must both be the strongest and weakest abilities of all, you know?” Jaehyun wasn’t certain getting so entertained by something as ominous sounding as blood magic was good, yet the magician happily rambled on, “You can only work it by a sacrifice of blood which makes it quite the useless ability in everyday means, you don’t just wanna go around slitting your wrist for minor things, do you? But the thing is...”

All at once, the witcher sobered up, expression calming as his golden eyes fixed on Jaehyun’s black ones, “The thing is, it has unlimited power. For as long as the bloodline continues, the magic will be kept active and finally, it will become unbreakable. In this case, we only have ten moon cycles left, Jaehyun, before your father’s Blood Curse will be complete. Blood - your blood - is stronger than my magic, Jaehyunnie, all our magic combined, so we need you.”

“You’re saying,” the fighter repeated, slowly, trying to make sense of it all with the pieces of bone he was handed, a riddle with hints he had to combine. It strained his already tired self. “My father knew how to do magic. And it’s blood based. Which makes me the only one who can break it. So why” - he frowned lightly - “did the King never come for me? When I can ruin whatever it is he wants?”

“Immortality.” The word, as simply as it sounded, weighed heavy. Spoken by a witcher all the more so. “By sacrificing your father’s life, and passing as many moons as your father has not used magic for, it will turn into a Blood Curse. A spell that can no longer be broken, no matter how hard anyone will try. Maybe there would be a way with another sacrifice but…” The golden eyes leveled him, carefully, “Let’s not go there, Jaehyun. Help us in time.”

“Are you threatening me?” The younger asked, biting his lip. Fighting against a witcher was about as smart as going to battle a sea monster with bare hands: it was doomed to fail. Which didn’t mean it didn’t make him feel crossed, backed into a corner. Might as well have a mouse battle a lion. 

“I’m asking for your help, Jaehyun,” Taeyong denied and sat up a bit to adjust his posture in the water warming up more, in the same way the fighter’s headache increased. Suddenly, he missed Yuta’s tea. The foreign witcher woke him up from his thoughts quickly, though. “Your father was a good man, and if the last of his doings was not to tell the false king how to break his spells, and it was the last good he did. I have faith he wanted to protect you, to keep you away from all, but I also fear he was aware we would find you.”

The witcher leaned back again, movements fluid, nearly hypnotizing despite the ache. Taeyong must be in a good mood, or maybe he was a blabbermouth naturally, endlessly talking like this. “Our seer prophesied your future, Jaehyun. Whether you like it or not, you’re bound to this fate.” And, as if sensing the incoming question, the witcher added, “I’ll tell you about it three days after we started our travel. Only then.”

Magic does not lie, the prince had said, and Jaehyun was prone to believe it, seeing the witcher’s sparkling eyes. If not the prophecy, he had other things to be curious about anyways and this time he didn’t hold back asking. “If my father was a good man, why would he usurp someone else?”

Within a second, the mood turned more solemn, melancholic, and the fighter observed golden eyes adjusting to the ceiling. “He didn’t do it voluntarily. He was good friends with the former king, and there weren’t many who were aware of his abilities but eventually… No secret is kept forever, Jaehyun. We all were informed he did it to protect his wife… But looking at you… You were kept a secret for a long time too, Jaehyun, and I think it is time we bring you to light.”

“I’m…” His words faded out softly, the headache lasting for days was finally getting to him. Slowly he shook his head, then a bit faster, and ignored the light daze as he looked at the witcher. “I think I need some time for myself now. Excuse me…”

As one of the last things, he could see the witcher smiling empathically, pain and unfulfilled longing in his eyes. Maybe it was the time playing tricks on him, too. It didn’t matter not when the increasing distance and lessening headache promised a more placid ending of his night.

  
▁⛥⌒*ﾟ.  


“You know, if I were you, I’d just do it,” the tan boy said, seeming all too insultingly casual on his horse as Jaehyun ran along the beach with his bare feet. Not because he had run out of shoes, albeit the sand in his boots was mildly bothersome, rather so it was because the sand felt like home to him, some place to be comfortable. This time, he didn’t regard the kid with a response, more focused on his breathing. 

“Johnny is generous with his favors. If he owes you, he might just present you with the whole of this kingdom. Wouldn’t it be quite convenient to rest on your oars and never work a single day again?”

For certain it did sound comfortable, to never have to work again, if he were actually interested in that. Fighting was not an easy occupation but because of the people he spent his time with, he was content. There was no retiring when there would always be kids like them, too. It wouldn’t stop after Jeno and Renjun, wouldn’t stop with their successors either, it would just go on, for as long as orphans were dropped off in their little port town or the sailors kept smuggling people. If not a fighter, he would find other means to get money to support them, that he was certain of. 

Naturally money would play an important part in this but it was not the only needed factor for their wellbeing - support and keeping up a bright enough mentality, those were necessities too. Money came with some responsibility he was not certain he could uphold, much less to mention the relation between wealth and the proximity of the capitol. No way was he willing to leave behind those he cared for. 

It was as if his thoughts had been read for the younger leaned down a bit in his saddle, trusting the horse to keep pace, and continued, “We can care for your friends, too. I had already asked Renjun to come with me. He’s a game but, for being a town at the ass of world, you sure do keep some treasures. Anyways, he turned me down. Because of his loverboy, I think.”

A sigh escaped Jaehyun’s lips involuntarily as he slowed down his pace until he was merely walking, eventually even stopping just so he could look at that kid better. There were a lot of things he wanted to question about those words, these strangers were so vastly different from his friends he was used to, it was hard to handle them and especially when they were coming to him one after another like this. Taeyong might have just been an incident but this golden boy… Probably not so much. “What is it you actually want, kid?”

“I want you to come along.” Simple as it sounded, it was not, and they both were aware of it. Yet, the noble did not get off his high horse, like an underlying statement of their actual status. “Look, I meant what I said. If not Johnny, I will look into your friends being taken care of well if that’s what’s holding you back. But I did not get to see the kingdom Johnny or Taeyong or Taeil have experienced, and I want it, I want this past they talked about. You haven’t yet seen what it is like but I assure you, when you join us, you will. And you will realize why we need you, Jaehyun.”

For a second, his eyes darted back to his town, lying far in the distance. Years ago, he had done his best to free Mark from these chains that bound him, and Renjun was supposed to come next. Jeno, too, should eventually not need to fight but the trio’s youngest was physically better at toughing it out. All of them, in their own way, had come to peace with the situation they were in, not daring to dream of more because their limits were close. One shouldn’t dream past their city boundaries, after all.

“The king and your father were friends, you know?” The kid went on, after moments of catching up with Jaehyun having turned back home. Turning a horse sure took longer than spinning on one’s heel.

“I was told, yes.” Repeatedly, even, and yet it seemed like a far away truth, like a fairy tale, too far out of his reach to seem palpable. How should it be, when Jaehyun had never gotten to know his father anyways, a figure nothing more than a distant fever dream. 

“He was forced to betray his friend because of the current king because of his wife? Because of you? Is that what you want your friends to experience as well, to have to slaughter their own friend because eventually the king will come for you?” Surprisingly, golden boy sounded more strict, more concerned about the whole of this conversation than he had at any prior point of his stay. It took Jaehyun off guard, as he looked at the young man in question. “Or will you watch them sacrifice themselves because you did not come with us in time? There is only so much we can do to protect you, too, Jaehyun. And it’s only if you allow us.”

“If this Blood Curse becomes unbreakable anyways,” the fighter retorted, throwing the kid a curious look, “Why would he come look for me?” Even he, no matter his alleged abilities, would prove to become useless against magic set for eternity. 

“Are you considering a man killing his own brother to be reasonable? Without honor nor moral, he will come for you for the mere sake of ridding this world of your blood. Or he might use you, too, to achieve his means.” A soft thump, silent steps, and a hand wrapped around his arm. Jaehyun had seen his coming, he had not anticipated the burning ambition in these young eyes, so vastly different of their settled kind. “There is a lot more to eternity than living on forever, Jaehyun. When it comes down to it, whether it’s now or later, it’s your abilities that keep him in check like none of us can do.”

Carefully, the fighter assessed the younger, the proper posture, the thin gold around his fingers, the bracelets. Things that should be hidden by a coat but were revealed by movement, it was evident this boy had little to fear, or merely a fire burning brighter within his heart than any other feeling ever could.

“If we fail,” he asked, slowly twisting his feet in the sand to face the noble properly, toes curling around the little grains, “Will you still care for my friends? Make sure they’re safe and well?”

Decisively, the kid nodded. “I will send a raven to my fiance right as we return!”

It was good enough a promise, the knowledge that, no matter the risk he might run into now, he wouldn’t actually abandon anyone. Anything. His eyes traced towards town again, wistfully thinking, wondering what they all were doing, whether all of them were yet awake. “Mark, Jeno, Renjun, Sicheng, and Wendy. Take care of them, and I will agree,” he demanded and if it were the last thing he could ever wish for. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that I posted the first part, I will point out that the main story will be posted on Sunday then!  
> (spoiler: it will be a taaaad longer than what has been so far!)
> 
> There won't be many updates regarding this story as I already finished 95% of it but I do have [twitter](https://twitter.com/starrymeis) in case you all are curious about my writing and ramblings and for further questions, here's also my [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/starrymeis).
> 
> Thank you to everyone who read this story so far and I hope you liked it! See you soon ~


	2. chronicle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! The main part of this story!
> 
> It's not a story of mine if there isn't a 30% chance it's a monster in length! So to everyone tackling this: I wish you well!
> 
> Since this is a rather long part, there is a lot I could say about it but I also have the memory of a goldfish so, uhm, enjoy?
> 
>  **trigger warnings** \- explicit smut. drinking. violence mostly in connection to fighting with swords/weapons. descriptions of wounds and treatments. corruption of the mind caused by magic.

### 

“How befitting of you to go like this, Jaehyunah.” Yuta’s voice cut through the silence of the night, the dawning hours just ahead of them yet nobody was crazy enough to possibly stand up this early. Nobody but them and Jaehyun’s awaiting entourage. “I have something for you.”

Regardless of the mention of presents, Jaehyun would have stopped. He hadn’t wanted to say goodbye to anyone, he hated goodbies. When they were to wake up, they would simply find a letter of his telling them to split up his money, that which he had saved up, too. Whatever the outcome of this journey, he doubted he’d need it anymore, but it was the only way he could think of as apology towards them, for leaving just like that.

Yuta catching him had not been part of his plans priorly, now it was too late to forbid it. With curious eyes the younger turned around, trying not to lose the few clothes he had packed in linen because there was nothing much for him to own anyways. It proved to be all the more of a struggle to hold when he was handed a pouch filled with little dry things. Herbs. “It’s for your headache. Take a fingerful and make yourself tea in the morning and evening. You’ll need it.”

It went without saying that it was a jab at Taeyong whose mere presence still gave him headaches, posed such a striking contrast to Yuta and if not for the tea and its soothing effects, Jaehyun considered he might just go mad on this travel. “Why isn’t your presence like this?” The question had bothered him since days, there were a lot of things he actually wanted to ask his friend, the courage always having slipped him short of parting his lips. Some secrets were better kept safe before anything got incriminated, and it seemed useless, now that they were about to depart.

“He’s stronger than me,” the older replied, affection on his tongue and bleeding through bronzen eyes sparkling in the dark. The magician still had to rely on his crutch a lot, had so since years, actually. Just another thing Jaehyun had never questioned. “But you need to be careful, Jaehyun. Taeyong’s magic is not made to protect or attack, neither can he heal. If need meets end, don’t rely on him. He will be helpful in his own ways but not those you will need.”

Early morning winter cold was bad enough, somehow Jaehyun still managed to feel colder hearing these words, like a dark premonition. It was scary, in its own way. Living so shut off, he had never known much about magic or how it worked, and he wasn’t certain he wanted to when syllables sounded like prophecies, when magic didn’t lie and it might come true. In nature’s rawest form, it was terrifying.

“Thank you,” he mumbled instead, low and under his breath, as he channeled his most positive feelings into a smile. More than these two words, it was his gratitude for the recent years, for looking out for not only him but all of them, for caring about them and making sure they were well. Considered a cripple by many, Yuta hadn’t had the highest standing in town but within the walls of the Academy, he was one of the highest authorities. It had saved their asses a few times, and now the fighter understood why. “Look after them for me, will you?”

“I don’t think I’ll need to for long,” the magician smiled, stretching one arm forward to pull the younger closer, into a tight embrace. The hug felt like home, like a place of soothing and consolation none of them had ever properly witnessed. This time around, Yuta’s voice sounded brighter, offered something for the fighter to look forward to. It was no premonition of failure and doom, it was the promise of a brighter future. Two images he couldn’t connect in his mind. “Take care of yourself, Jaehyunah. Have faith in what you can do and all will go well. Taeyong will look after you properly.”

Never one for long partings, the younger pulled away after a few seconds only, trying his best not to look too much at Yuta. Another reason why he hadn’t wanted to meet anyone, it would inevitably make his eyes sting with tears and break his heart. Sicheng and Yuta, Jeno and Renjun, Wendy and Mark - they were all he had, all he knew. Going somewhere else, regardless of knowing it was the right decision, was still more scary than he wanted to admit. Too many things he did not understand, too many things he would have to face.

The witcher knew him too well not to know this, read his silent posture, and one slender hand reached forth to ruffle through his greyish hair carefully. Someone had once compared it to the color of clouds ahead of a raging sea storm and it was a picture he treasured a lot. “You’re a strong kid, Jaehyun. You will do well, it’s your destiny.”

When he looked up this time, there was nothing but pride and faith in Yuta’s face, a gentle smile. “Nobody must have told you yet but you look just like your father. He was also timid at this age of yours, faced with so many new things. But I’m sure he would be proud of you, seeing you now.”

He shouldn’t question it, he really shouldn’t. Magicians lived for a long time, they flocked together and had their own ways of meeting. It should surprise Jaehyun anymore, that all these witchers knew of his father when he could not even remember the man’s name nor face. To hear even Yuta reveal such things, it yet was, a surprise he had not anticipated and that caught him off guard. 

Before those words could catch up to him, the implication behind it all, the older was already sending him off. In quite the unexpected way, too - one moment Yuta was still stood there, the next he was gone. Only the warmth of affection and embraces lasted, made the cold a bit easier to bear for Jaehyun. Slightly, he smiled at the spot the older had stood on just a second ago before he turned around, ready to embark on this strange journey nobody had prepared him for. 

▁⛥⌒*ﾟ.

At first, Jaehyun had considered it a miracle they had found a fifth horse for him to ride on their way back towards the core of the country. By the time they took their nightly rest, he would rather call it a curse though. Never before had he rode a mare and albeit she was one gentle creature, the movements were foreign to him, his thighs strained from the stretch and the skin sore from the fabric chafing the surface. Even his ass hurt, and while that was not a sensation entirely foreign, usually he’d consider it to be that way for more pleasurable reasons.

Walking on solid ground, after hours of sitting in a saddle, made him feel dizzy, as if he were drunk without having yet tasted a single drop on his tongue, amplified by his headache too. Seeing the others run around without trouble though, he felt little to no regret about just planting his behind on some tree roots peeking out, back leaning against the rough bark. His knees protested about not longer being bent and only years of working out and learning the importance of stretching had him persisting through it.

For longer than he had thought, he just stared at his legs, focused on getting his limbs feeling normal again. The mere idea of having to suffer this procedure some several times more had him pouting at no one but himself, and no amount of endearment towards animals could make up for his increasing disfavor towards riding. At least fighting, albeit painful, came with a sense of satisfaction born from victory. Riding, on the other hand, offered nothing he could gain. 

When a hand came down onto his shoulder it startled him more than it should, yet he was immediately faced with Taeyong’s soothing gaze, and if eyes alone could speak healing spells, Jaehyun was certain he would be fine now. “Didn’t Yuta give you some tea? I’ll prepare it for you,” he offered gently, at the same time as he held out a jar of what must be salve, “For your legs later. We all went through this in the beginning.”

Being met with such kindness, the younger couldn’t help but smile softly, and it nearly had him oblivious towards the uncomfortable sensation he received. Nearly. For when he looked towards the source, he found the prince staring at him with - with what? Contempt? Bad faith? It was hard to tell with exhaustion messing up his mind and the bad light hiding too much. The campfire between them did nothing to make it easier.

The other two were gone wherever and now that he concentrated a bit more, Jaehyun could make out there was an evident parting of chores. Johnny seemed to be busy preparing their sleeping place, a bunch of blankets spread over the cold floor in one place, surely to use their combined body heat to fight off the cold. Taeyong, on the other hand, seemed to be in charge of preparing meals, jostling with the few pots they had brought along, one currently hovering above the fire, kept up by magic alone. Likeliest, the kid and the missing adult were out on a search for fresh dinner ingredients.

Moments of consideration passed but, eventually, questions were still burning on his tongue, those he hadn’t dared ask earlier, when his mind was on not dropping from his mare while at the same taking in all this new scenery. Quiet, not to startle human nor animal, he called out, “Hey… What exactly is your plan for this… rebellion of sorts?”

The other two exchanged a glimpse, maybe considering who should tell what, and without words they made their own decision too. Johnny was the one to approach him, done with his task, and Taeyong asked, “Where’s your tea, Hyunnie?”

Vaguely, the younger gestured at his package of clothes, still stuck onto his saddle that was resting on a fallen over tree, relieving their equestrians of the weight on their backs. The magician smiled softly prior busying himself with preparing the hot drink, and Jaehyun’s attention was forced to return to the prince who knelt down in front of him. A manner not too unlike this one passed night, albeit this time it was not about washing his hands. This time, stranger hands found their way to first his calves, massaging upwards, to work the kinks out of his muscles.

“Western you’ll find the mountains meet a river and that is where we’ll need to go. This is based on a story I told but not was part of - sorry,” the royal apologized himself when Jaehyun hissed at one particularly sore part. “My uncle, somehow, got his hands on a sword, one wicked weapon. The legend has it to be have been crafted by a descendant of a deity, a blade promising victory to whoever holds it. It was the very same sword my uncle used to slay your father, too, the moment he promised prosperity over the reign.”

Without noticing, Johnny’s hands had gotten too far up, touching the bit of fat covering his inner thigh muscles, where the skin was sensitive not only from riding. Instinctively, Jaehyun’s hand rushed forth, fingers circling around the prince’s. With the state he was in, he was more prone to be affected by these touches, his body reacting with an interest he was not willing to give. 

Whatever his expression had told, the nobleman didn’t comment on it, and instead switched legs to focus on the other while continuing, “The way I heard it, your father had no other intention than promising a long and victorious reign but the more blood is lost, the stronger the effect. Sacrificing one of your kind will result in the Blood Curse that can’t be broken upon settlement, as I already said before. With his last breath and his magic already flowing into the spell, he managed to curse the sword, for no one but his own blood to touch it, for no one too weak to handle it to ever be allowed to wield it. Even without a Blood Curse forming, the blade became useless to my uncle, and a witch stole it at night. She dropped it, past the Western Meadows, and this is where we’ll go.”

For his second leg, Jaehyun didn’t need to point out for the other not to go too far up, the older stopped himself in time, at the lightest twitching of the muscle in question. It had the younger feel grateful, not only for the massage that had actually relieved some of the pain but the consideration that went into it. His body was tired and all his thought seemed to have gone through a corn mill, going as far as wondering whether it wouldn’t be different under different circumstances.

In theory, Johnny wasn’t bad looking, it was only his first impression that had been horrible. A chiseled body, even bigger that the fighter’s, it had his body’s interest not only in a competitive way, merely blocked by his distaste for the introduction that first evening, the attention that seemed to have been taken for granted. Considering the title, it shouldn’t come as surprise, a prince must be used to being stared at, courted and knelt down for. It just vexed Jaehyun who was raised in a town that respected the strongest over the richest. 

Up close, it was nothing he could deny, though. Full and curled lips, high cheekbones dusted pink from the cold, eyes slender and warm. There was nothing that should be considered anything but handsome about the prince, Jaehyun was aware it was just his own bias that kept him from admitting that openly. 

Fortunately, he was relieved from his thoughts by Taeyong offering him a mug of steaming tea, burning hot to the touch of freezing fingers that Jaehyun welcomed anyways. It was something to put his mind on, to keep his mind from going circles he wasn’t able to make sense of. A single sip both burnt his tongue and took some pressure of his head, feeling like stuck in a clamp, too much to be comfortable but too little to just have him burst. Excruciating, at its best, he couldn’t resolve why it was only concerning this one magician when he had spent years around Yuta who, for the mere sake of challenging Taeyong, didn’t seem to be too weak either.

Slowly sipping the tea and feeling it warm him up inside out aided him in adjusting his attention, working through the story he had been told. Not only was he supposed to best a sword that might be anything from cursed to blessed, he also couldn’t work around what was meant to come after. “So once we have the sword… Then what? Will there be some army to back you up? Will you start a war?”

Within a second, the other’s eyes hardened, steeled by an unbreakable resolve. A king’s eyes, in fact, a person not to be crossed. It would vex Jaehyun further if it were to ever be directed at him. “My uncle’s becoming paranoid recently, and he increased the guards around home. But I’m not willing to start a war that will split this nation in two. There are enough royals in my favor whose voices will weigh enough to keep the public in check after hearing about my uncle’s death.”

How peculiar. Somehow, the younger couldn’t help notice Johnny didn’t like to refer to his uncle as the king. Understandable and considerable at once, disrespecting the ruler of a nation regardless of all circumstances. 

“Our means are to keep this as small as possible. Taeyong will take care of the magicians guarding my uncle and my job is to guide you closer to my uncle, Jaehyun. Your job simply is to kill my uncle, everything else will be for me to take care of, you need not worry.”

The kid, upon entering their little camping areal and having heard the last words. It wasn’t reassuring, neither was remembering Yuta’s word stuck in his mind, an advice by a friend, never to be taken lightly. Taeyong’s magic was not made to fight, neither to attack nor to protect. Just how reliable the older witcher would actually be in a battle like this, the fighter could not help wonder. If need meets end, he was on his own, wasn’t that what Yuta had said? So if he was to fight, would it be a battle to fend of his own? 

Against his better words, Jaehyun was not able to sleep. After drinking his tea and prior to dinner, he had apologized himself with the excuse of exhaustion, had merely applied the salve on Taeyong’s reminder. Now, though, hours might have passed and, with his back to the others, several inches of distance between all of them, he couldn’t find the rest he was seeking for, his head stuffed with thoughts and empty at once.

The cold was tiring him out, the evidence of the drunk passing out on the streets and freezing to death in the coldest nights at home making him wary of it. He could understand why Donghyuck and Taeil - whose names he forgot more often than he remembered - and Taeyong were huddled close together. Johnny, too, must be somewhere around too but after the other had left his spot near Jaehyun earlier, the younger hadn’t kept track of him any longer. 

For him, though, this proximity to others he didn’t know was uncomfortable, pressuring in a way. He hadn’t even been too touchy with his friends at home at times as vulnerable as these, it seemed all the weirder now, the idea of cuddling with people he knew as well as the sailors passing by. It made it harder to find sleep, being in alien surroundings, away from the flimsy but cozy bed nursing him at home, lacking the satisfaction that came from working a good sweat.

Restless he felt and restless he was, enough so to throw his covers away and get up, careful still to not rouse the others as he slipped on his chilled boots and took one of the furs as a cover. A bit further down from camp, within a radius of safety but out of listening range, he might be better off, just allowing himself to listen to the sounds of nature, the trickling of water, rustling of bugs, replacing light snores and deep breaths.

In such situation, in the worst case, he might have thought to maybe run into some wild animal, possibly risk getting mauled to death by a wild wolf or something. Running into Johnny, of all things, hadn’t been on his list of bizarre concepts. And still, he found his legs carry him over to where the prince was sitting on a bolder near the creek, dropping down on the ground mindless of the cold seeping through his clothes.

Sleepless nights were normal for him, he didn’t know about the prince. His questions, unspoken, though, were easily answered when the older opened his mouth. “Someone has to keep watch at night. Ignoring my uncle’s paranoia of me, there are still robbers that might make their way around. Who, at the mention of, also have to resort to these measures only because of my uncle.”

Somewhat confused, Jaehyun looked up at the older. Staying in a town ignored by the rest of the population aside from travellers on the rivers meant he was mostly oblivious to the state’s needs, too. Rumors carried far, nevertheless falling victim to booze and women alike. Nobody cared for matters that were too far out of reach, not bothering them at the southernmost end of the map. 

“He’s claiming their lands. He’s building an army to battle other countries whose territories we don’t need.” Johnny’s eyes were intense as their gazes locked, glowing even in the dark of nighttime. “He’s asking for their sons to die for him and he’s demanding more crops than the fields can produce. Those who don’t come up to his standards are scared out of their houses and their lands are reassigned to other people. Rural officers are powerless against military officials so they have to resort to means like these more often than I’d like.”

Oddly enough, those words had Jaehyun feel regretful, not for not knowing because knowledge was nothing someone should be blamed for, not everyone had gained fate’s blessing and was allowed to learn. But these people the prince talked about were affected by a single man’s whims, nobody brave enough to step up, they were left defenseless against noble selfishness.

“Why aren’t they revolting?” The younger asked in lieu, wrapping his arms tighter around his knees, fingers nervously tapping against his shins. Energy was brimming not only within him but also surrounding him, offering many questions to little answers. For a second he couldn’t help wonder whether he felt natural magic now that those were not home to him or whether he was just experiencing strange symptoms of homesickness. 

“Why did you refuse to leave?” Johnny retorted and, fair enough. Making changes wasn’t easy, sticking with the simpler option was sometimes the smarter way out. It didn’t explain why no one did it. “He has black magic on his side, too. The weapons he makes are cursed, the armor enchanted. No matter how many try to raise their hand against the oppressing soldiers, they all get beaten anyways.”

“And the soldiers-”

“Loyal to their bones. Some of them might be influenced by the magic too but others… There are more than enough who believe whoever carries the crown is in the right. Talking to them is like commanding a tree to sing, it won’t happen.”

At this point, Jaehyun didn’t know what else to say, releasing a sound of recognition seemed the most he could do. Politics wasn’t something that had concerned him further than beating whoremongers who didn’t treat the girls right, befitting the system of their town. The tavern fed them, the bathhouse welcomed them, the Academy protected them. A triarchy they kept up regardless of all, even if it meant taking on clients twice his weight.

Anything past that seemed too difficult to understand, rules working outside home were mysterious and strange, he hadn’t ever bothered. To consider that Johnny must be barely older than him based on looks alone, based on what he had heard so far, yet kept track of all these affairs was impressive. On a strictly objective level, of course.

“You’re too full of energy,” the prince suddenly stated, calling for Jaehyun’s attention in a second. Confusion on the younger’s face as he looked at the royal first, then followed the other’s gaze. His fingers were twitching, still, his feet restlessly beating against the ground. An undeniable fact, no matter that it made him a bit flustered, heat maring his ears for being called out like this. “Do you want to spar? You must not be used to miss training even for a day.”

Surprise was easily flushed away by excitement, the mere mention of making them work had his muscles warm up and twitching, and it was an offer he wouldn’t pass on at any time. Thoughts swirled his mind like mist, existent but not palpable, a steaming mess. Distracting his head by using his body had always worked, better than should be considered healthy, so the offer was welcome now. 

Without words, he put the fur on the boulder Johnny had abandoned where another was already resting, and slipped out of his shoes. The barren earth was cold and dry but kicking with boots was more uncomfortable. His toes curled into the unforgiving soil, barely leaving a dent as he twirled around.

What he was met with were the prince’s eyes, sparkling and bright, amused. A striking contrast to the sides Jaehyun had been allowed to perceive so far. “I should’ve known the way to make you open was fighting,” the older started, rolling his shoulders. Jaehyun prepared for the punch that promptly followed, blocking it off, the distance between them cut. They were closer now, Johnny’s breath close to touching his skin, “I’m glad I found you first, Jaehyun. You and your friends would be dangerous soldiers under my uncle’s demand.”

Because they were trained fighters. Better than soldiers, more than farmers. Fighting day by day, victorious night by night. It stroked the fighter’s ego, had his passion flaring up as he gazed at the older. “Less talking, more fighting. You shouldn’t make this too easy for me tonight, princeling.”

Fire was not only burning in his eyes now, gasoline to the younger’s competitive streak. A good fight, always, bested sleep anyways. 

▁⛥⌒*ﾟ.

On the third day of traveling through wasteland, Jaehyun considered it the greatest of luck to not have to sleep on the floor anymore. They had come across a small village and maybe would have passed it too if not for Johnny speaking up. A farm a distance away from the collection of houses seemed to be a better solution, and the newcomer of their group didn’t question it. What he had taken from the conversations filling their sleepless nights, the older knew better anyways.

Merely the gaze he received as they got off their horses he couldn’t decipher well which he had already decided was to become a common thing between them. Or the least for him. Johnny was easier to get along with than he had first anticipated, something that might be equally blamed upon his own prejudice and the older having taken a liking to tending to his sore muscles for several nights now. These things evened each other out, and whilst Jaehyun didn’t enjoy having to admit to his own shortcomings and this was one he had to unfortunately confess to have been in the wrong about. 

“Hey, scarface,” Donghyuck yelled from a few feet down, the nickname not accurate because there was no distinct enough scar on Jaehyun’s face to justify it but the implication behind it wasn’t lost. A prince, a magician, and two nobles met a fighter - it was obvious who it was meant for. “Help me tend the horses?”

For a short second, Jaehyun couldn’t help look at the others, what they were doing as they all got off their horses, the older part of their group getting ready to head in first. It shouldn’t matter, after two consecutive nights of feeling useless for not being able to do much, drowsy from the strain and not eating well on their first day, he was just happy he could finally do something. Even if the only thing that kept him going was the thought of a proper rest and warmer place to sleep.

Looking at the bright side, he was finally taught how to tend the horses. The stable had nothing too grand to offer, it was but a little wooden building with a single bar to hang their saddles. Such started the routine, take off their luggage and the saddles, one of them holding the blankets to keep their horses warm at night. Step by step, from rubbing their sweat off with straw to wrapping their ankles to prevent a strain and covering them with their blankets. Eventually, it was all concluded by Taeyong bringing them a fresh hay and water. 

“The auntie put something on the stove already. There’s also some warm water to wash up so hurry up,” the older advised, a few simple words but already was Donghyuck taking off in a sprint. Jaehyun, too, joined after another round of insistence from the witcher, at a slower pace than the youngster.

The house was a simple one, befitting of such frugal lifestyle, sturdy wood and big rooms, a steep staircase leading up into the second floor that would house one or two bedrooms. Warmth was radiating from the fireplace, the welcoming smell of smoke and food inviting everyone in. In one corner, the stony floor was wet from water flowing over the wooden tub, not meant to be inviting like those at home but prepared for a quick wash. Currently it was occupied by Donghyuck, clothes piled on a heap in safe distance, body shamelessly displayed. 

Disregarding any standard of formality, however this would look like for Jaehyun had never been taught about that, the adolescent was undressed. Probably it wouldn’t even bother the auntie cooking at a smaller fireplace, closer to an age of having been a mother herself. 

“You should wash up too, dear,” Johnny’s voice whispered too close to his ear, warm breath moving his air, and while it had Jaehyun wishing to jump three yards into the air, all he could do was flinch slightly. 

“Are you telling me I stink?” The younger shot back, tilting his head just enough to be able to look at the prince from the corner of his eyes. It strained his neck, already tense from being shaken too much thanks to dozing off while riding. How he hadn’t yet fallen off remained a mystery.   
“We all would after this.” Laughter rang true with these words, echoing softly around Jaehyun who only wrinkled his nose at it, hidden from the older’s sight. Fingers curled around his side slowly, giving it a tender squeeze. “If you feel too shy about washing, I can always do it with you. But you’ll want to clean up after these last days, we never know when we’ll get a chance at a warm bath next, Jaehyun.”

Maybe naive and oblivious to the world, the younger couldn’t help snorting at that. So much he could imagine, that there wasn’t much to warm up with in the depth of winter. Thanks to his daily serving of tea he was already in the better, had something to heat up his insides, and the longer he drank it, the better it worked, too.

“I’m not shy of getting naked, if that’s what you’re implying,” he denied, confidence easily backing him up. If not for years of stepping half naked into the ring, regardless of the weather, at least their communal baths would have forced all traces of embarrassment out of him. Soothing at best, condescending at worst, he patted Johnny’s shoulder before pulling away, too. 

His shirt easily left him, followed by his other clothes, as he switched places with Donghyuck. This was rural lifestyle in a way he had never gotten to know, neither good nor bad, just foreign. What a pity, though, the warmth wouldn’t accompany them for too long.

What confused him, too, was the gaze he felt tracing his body, leading him back to Johnny’s figure near the aunt. Maybe to offer help with chores, being the good samaritan he was, and that one was heated in ways it shouldn’t, foreign to a Jaehyun who wasn’t dead drunk and at the brink of his conscious. There weren’t a lot of chances to indulge life as it was, too focused on looking after others at times. So getting spoiled as he was by the prince, also, was foreign to him in a way. Foreign and confusing alike.

▁⛥⌒*ﾟ.

As fast as sleep had overcome him the previous night, the sun had woken him quite as easily, easier to be welcomed with open arms when still embraced by warmth. With a sleep riddled mind, he had still noticed the elder lady getting up in the middle of the night to stoke up the fire, ask the temperature to stay the same for longer. But when the sun tickled his face, he had been awake for good.

The kids were up earlier than their parents, and Jaehyun had just wanted to make his tea when the daughter climbed down the stairs. They hadn’t met the night before, their group had settled in early, yet word traveled fast within a small household. She only smiled at him as she got her coat from a hook and grabbed a basket, and one thing lead to another, somehow he ended up spending the hours of the sun rising wrestling with chicken instead of sailors, milking goats instead of working beer taps. Lucky him, at least the girl proved to be quite patient with him.

Up to the point of laughter bubbling between them as they made their way back to the house, and albeit winter mornings were cruel, it didn’t seem to bother him as much today. They were a bit away from the coastline, too, resulting in the winds to have lessened, making the cold less biting at least. 

The warmth felt like too much as they stumbled back into the house, careful to neither drop eggs nor spill milk, even as they took off their outer layers of clothing, him carelessly dropping the fur to the ground and her hanging it up diligently. With a smile, she turned around to him, eyes bright despite the early time and lacking a wake-up drink. “Do you want to help me with breakfast too? We don’t have a lot but I’ll give it my best for your sake either way.”

A request difficult to deny for the mere sake of being a guest to this family, it was even harder to do so when she was smiling all that brightly, looking expectant and chipper. So somehow, despite his unpracticed skills in cooking, he ended up beside her, cutting vegetables and mixing ingredients according to her instructions. What they ended up making was a good serving of vegetables with eggs, the rice thankfully something she took care of. At one point, though, he felt bad about her perking up apologies about not being able to offer any meat nor fish to accompany their meal.

“It’s alright. I’m used to less than this so it already seems like a wondrous meal,” the fighter smiled softly, interrupted only by the creaking of stairs behind them. On first thought, he would have anticipated Taeyong to show up, usually first to prepare their meals at camp, too. Theory wasn’t always reality, and this time around it wasn’t either. Instead, Johnny was the one coming down, wrapped into his blanket still and falling down in front of the fireplace. 

Eyes sleepy and still awake, it was an intriguing sight, and Jaehyun looked at it for longer than he probably should, trying to take it in and find the lines of difference. Slim eyes smaller from morning fatigue, dark hazel glowing warmly with the reflection of fire inside, cheeks supple and with blanket prints, lips dry, hair disheveled. The younger hadn’t even noticed for how long he had looked until the girl subtly elbowed him.

“Even if I’m not that pretty, common courtesy tells you to pay attention to the lady in the room,” she joked, and the irony of it had Jaehyun grinning as well. If she knew just who she and her family were housing, she probably would be staring as well.

“You’re plenty pretty,” he assured with a smile, not just words he spewed for nothing. Growing up around women like Wendy or Irene, he considered himself to have some sort of reference towards beauty standards. One this girl partly surpassed, the kind of woman to easily find an admirer in town. That his own eyes were drawn to Johnny, though, made little to no sense, in return.

“Food is ready in a moment,” she reassured him, hand gesturing towards the fireplace at the far end of the wall, “Go and sit down until then. You’ve been enough help so far.” Along with her words, she handed him two smaller cups of milk to take along, and for who it was went without question.

His steps were louder inside than they had been outside, no longer muffled by the soil, and more easily calling for attention as he came closer. Johnny’s eyes were already on him by the time Jaehyun held out one of the two cups, and once it was taken off his hand, it was also easier to sit down as well. “Good morning to you too, Johnny.”

“Morning,” the older muttered, voice gruff from sleep, a bit deeper than normal. It was pleasant, the kind of tone that was easy to wake up to. It was a bit like home and remembering what a mess the kids had been there, too, still half asleep by the time Jaehyun was up and ready. Although the following words seemed like an unintended confession, “You look prettier when you smile like that. You always just stare at us grimly.”

Surprise maring his features, Jaehyun glimpsed at the older. He hadn’t actually paid attention to his expressions, neither recently nor before, and in aftermath it was ever so evident. Naturally, surrounded by strangers he was less inclined to be as open and free as he had been around home, warming up to others took time. Small talk was easy, chattering away with people over drinks, but actually opening up sometimes took him quite a while.

“Will you accept my apologies if I blame it on Taeyong?” Carefully, wanting to treasure the taste, he took a sip from his milk, still a bit warm from having been cooked first this morning to be better durable. It wasn’t wrong per se, he tended to look more stern when upset and a permanent headache was plenty reason to be upset, a little detail the witcher must have forwarded a while ago.

Albeit only being a measly joke, it still had Johnny snorting in amusement, splatters of milk shooting through the air. “I guess I can accept that on all our behalf. Just don’t tell him or he’ll whine about it all day long,” the prince hinted, lips still curled up in delight. Maybe similar to his own expression brightening with a smile, Jaehyun fought this kind of expression fit Johnny better as well. 

▁⛥⌒*ﾟ.

What had seemed interesting at first, the change of scenery that came with traveling, leaving behind the endless water framing two thirds of his hometown, it had seemed fascinating. The far spread meadows he could imagine to be filled with all sorts of flowers come spring, the deep forests they crossed, the mountains in the far distance that were their destination. No one had told him how long it would take them to get there and every additional day he had to continue on, looking at the mountain tops that seemed to only get further out of reach by the time they stopped at night, he felt something akin to travel fatigue overcome him. 

Alas, it was still in the afternoon, according to the sun somewhere on the halfway between lunch break and nightly rest. With as much time spent riding horseback as they had, he already felt his legs give up, his back endlessly sore, weariness creeping up on him. At least he still fared better than Taeyong slumped over his horse’s neck, precariously shaking on the moving animal. It had him worried, all the more so because nobody seemed to have a say on that matter. The sight, too, was distracting, helpfully taking his attention away from just staring at the distant cliffs.

If not for the magician suddenly sitting up and whipping his head around, golden eyes framed by blackness that had swallowed up the white of eyes, making him look like a dragon indeed, looking somewhere next to Jaehyun. Only then did the younger notice Johnny had fallen behind, riding next to him instead of taking the lead, when the witcher spoke up, “Ten’s camp might be a two day ride away. He’ll exchange equipment and horses for us but I’m not sure we should expect anything more from them.”

“Better not. You all better know to keep quiet when we’re there,” the prince agreed, looking at Taeil and Donghyuck at that who, too, had to look over their shoulders to meet his gaze. There was some silent agreement between them at that, taking nothing more than a glimpse.

“What about him?” The older of these two spoke up, head tilted in Jaehyun’s direction who didn’t even understand what was going on. At home, a person willing to help out would be considered a friend, yet these four seemed to be more wary of these things, as if there was something to keep hidden. As if Jaehyun was better to be kept hidden. Which also meant this person wasn’t that much of a friend after all.

“Our new guard. Ten detests magicians, no one will know.” Easy as it seemed to be, spoken by Johnny, the fighter didn’t miss out on the witcher’s flinch, words clearly including him, too. What an odd situation. “The worst that would happen in that case is that Ten makes Jaehyun display his skills,” and at that, finally, someone - Johnny - returned their attention to him, lightly raising an eyebrow, “Are you going to be okay with this?”

The one in question only huffed at that. “I’ll gladly welcome the change of beating someone’s ass who isn’t you.” Along with that, if his assumption was right and the prince, of all people, was trained by only the best, it means he had already looked through their style. It shouldn’t pose too much of a challenge in that case then.

“And I always thought you were fucking at night,” Donghyuck muttered at a volume that might have been meant to be inconspicuous. Not that it was anywhere close to it but the idea alone had the tips of Jaehyun’s ears heating up. “Sounding like rutting bunnies… I have nightmares from that.”

“Hyuck!” Taeyong reprimanded, and from beside himself Jaehyun could hear an amused snort. When he looked over, Johnny’s face was decorated by the brightest of grins, eyes crinkled in amusement, wrinkles forming an adorable crescent around the other corner. 

Only adorable and Johnny didn’t fit in the same sentence, prompting Jaehyun to shake his head lightly and gaze forward again. Taeil and Donghyuck were bickering, Taeyong was slumbed over his saddle again, and they seemed to have returned to their usual ways. Slowly yet surely Jaehyun, too, was getting used to it, the fog surrounding his mind also clearing up. Whether or not it had to do with getting used to the witcher’s company wasn’t a question anyone could answer for him currently.

“Do you remember when I mentioned how some are blindly following whoever wears the crown?” 

Called there, Jaehyun’s look once again darted towards the prince, curiously taking in the royal sight. He could remember quite well albeit he wouldn’t admit that, throughout their nightly brawls he had learned a lot more about this countries than throughout his life, about politics and locations, about Johnny and his life. Within less than a week, he had already grown a bit more fond of the royal, something he wanted to blame simply on being taken care of well and seeing the more tender side of the older.

“Ten is one of them,” the elaboration followed, unprompted. “He’s a military general. When my uncle took the throne, he didn’t question it. He just abandoned my father’s intentions and started to do whatever he was commanded to.” Wrily, Johnny smiled, distant longing in his eyes. “I guess one has to admire his loyalty towards the crown, I just wish it would expand towards the person wearing it, too.”

He could have seen that much coming, with an ounce of thought put into it but he must have grown lazy mentally, all too used to the prince explaining whatever needed. But at this moment he couldn’t help observing Taeyong for a moment who had not only brought this person up, he was also shunned by that very same man. There also was another part of the story that riddled him, thoughts spoken alight, “If you say he abandoned your father’s intentions...”

“He’s cursed,” the witcher spoke up from in front of them, apparently not as dazed as he had seemed at first, “He picked a fight with a witch some several decades ago who detested his attitude.  _ For as long as this crown may be carried. For as long as you won’t heed the true rulers orders. For that long a time you will be forced to stay alive, through pain and wounds. Your mortal wounds may heal, your heart may beat _ _. _ He’s desperate to end this curse like anyone else would be, too, but he doesn’t realize the mistakes he commits himself.”

The true rulers. It must not be some usurpator, a man committing fratricide. If anyone, it would be Johnny, right next to Jaehyun, who was ignored by his father’s general in favor of a cruel murderer. That same story, too, explained the detest towards Taeyong, a witcher, user of magic like the one who had cursed him before.

Slightly the fighter flinched when feeling a poke to his side, reacting with a squeeze to his mare’s side she took with a displeased buckle. All it did was make the cruel prince laugh while Jaehyun clung onto the saddle tighter. 

“Don’t bring up around Taeyong I told you,” Johnny whispered, mischievous glint in alluring eyes, “but Ten only favors one witcher. They just have a relationship problem of their own they need to work out.”

“I have ears, Johnny.” Once, the magician flicked his fingers in the royal’s direction and without prior notice, the prince’s horse bolted, buckling and galloping, taking over the frontline of their little entourage. Over his shoulder, Taeyong looked at Jaehyun. “I wouldn’t believe all the nonsense he spouts in your place. He sometimes gets too far ahead of himself.”

All it did, though, was make the younger more aware of this person named Ten. Cursed by a witch, obeying who he thought was in the right, distrusting magic users but in some sort of affair with the witcher ahead. A name, a mysterious figure, Jaehyun only grew more curious of getting to know that man.

▁⛥⌒*ﾟ.

Taeyong had told them they would reach Ten’s camp within a day’s time in the morning when they set out to continue to their travel. What Jaehyun hadn’t expected, though, was to see the traces left behind by the army. The area they reached must be closer to the capital than they had been to before, more and more villages along their path than there had been before, alone on this day they had passed two.

No better word was created than eerie to describe it, small towns that should be thriving with life seemed dreary as they passed them. From the distance they held, they should be able to see people wandering about, doing works on the fields to prepare the soon thawing soil for the crop, tending to animals. Instead, cows were roaming on their own, pigs had broken free from their limitations, chicken were within walking distance from them. Evidently the towns had been abandoned, serving as yet another reminder to what Johnny had told him before. 

Farmers would be driven out of their homes, robbed of their sons, heavens forbid thinking of what they would do to the innocent girls. It was horrible enough to know these things would happen to an enemy’s folk, these same crimes might as well be perpetrated against their own nation at this point. A well enough reminder of them embarking upon a military camp soon enough, a thought that slowly had Jaehyun’s guts twisting in distaste, curiosity replaced by mild irritation instead.

Something about his expression must have given is thought process away, for Johnny looked at him carefully, making him feel like a herb under a doctor’s inspecting gaze. Since the first remark of Ten’s camp, the prince had taken a liking to riding next to him, breaking their formation into a two-one-two, with Taeyong alone in the middle now. 

“He’s not as bad as you might think he is,” the prince only stated, and Jaehyun wanted to trust his words, thoughts meddled by what the witcher had said before, too. Magic doesn’t lie, Johnny might be an idealist, but hadn’t he also been warned about the magician himself? It was confusing, a complexity he wasn’t used to after growing up where words weren’t taken for granted, where the wrong syllables might only bring you trouble.

Sicheng and him, they had stuck together for long and their kids, too, knew better than to keep the truth from them. But now, stuck in between half-truths and things he didn’t know about, he felt like the only thing he could trust was his own intuition, a feeling he wanted to honor by not allowing this image he had of Ten to be ruined too soon. For that reason, also, he didn’t yet react to the prince’s words. If not Ten’s doing, at least their surroundings spoke of what the current king was capable of with such cruel heart.

It was close to nighttime when they got through the camp, visible from a good mile away, an abundance of forts spread out in the middle of wasteland that might have been fields properly. The town nearby seemed to have been neglected entirely, judging by its ghosted looks as they approached and passed it.

In all honesty, it had Jaehyun feeling a bit squeasy, seeing houses abandoned like this was too foreign for him, even after a whole day of seeing it he was not yet used to such view. At this point there was nothing more he could do than follow the others’ lead, not too unusual when considering the recent days but neither too reassuring when considering they were about to encounter what might be considered enemy territory. Regardless of whether Ten was an acquaintance or friend of theirs, it didn’t change the fact that man was currently belonging to the faux king’s army. How funny that Jaehyun had already taken over the same phrasing when referring to Johnny’s uncle. 

With confidence he didn’t have, they rode into the camp, some sort of main street built into it, surely to give pathway to the riders trailing in and out. Creepily enough, no curious looks were thrown their direction, soldiers going calmly about their routine. Hadn’t Johnny mentioned the influence of magic upon them? It was terrifying, to consider they were not their true selves, a marionette in a lunatic man’s hand. In this case, he didn’t even need further proof, didn’t need to meet the man behind it when actions spoke more than words.

The four of them, with Jaehyun behind them, went about their way towards the center of the camp, where a bigger tent was located and one man in casual clothes already awaiting them outside. 

Well, casual as one could be in the middle of a military camp, iron armor replaced with leather garment, partly covered by fur weighing heavy on the small stature. A man cursed to what might be considered immortality, it was only left to wonder whether he had been rewarded with his rank by age and curse alone or with actual skills. Sure enough, he seemed imitating, despite his lesser size. An issue Jaehyun could only judge in comparison to the sailors he was used to fighting, brute force and lesser skills, muscles used to work not fight. He had always been at an advantage towards those, not only thanks to learning from his fellow friends’ styles, from Jeno’s head on confrontations and Sicheng’s waiting for the right time, an experience of its own.

The man’s gaze travelled over them, weight resting against a wooden post, taking in their sights one by one until courteously nodding his head. “M’prince. I’m glad to receive you in my humble branch. Please, make yourself home, I’ve already prepared some place for you to sleep.” Those words, albeit polite, seemed empty, like a speech learned inside out, lacking the compassion needed. Only when those red rimmed eyes met with Taeyong’s there seemed to be a spark of something, something Jaehyun couldn’t name. “I see you also have a new member to your party. Care to elaborate?”

“The lands are getting more dangerous, Ten,” Taeil spoke up in their stead, the first to dismount his horse. The older, as Jaehyun had realized in the recent weeks, seemed to be Johnny’s spokesperson of sorts, someone to represent him, an ambassador within their own grounds. “We needed better protection after your king denied them.”

“He’s your king too.” The general’s eyes slimmed slightly, going from Taeil to Jaehyun instead who, also, was currently jumping of his horse, knees cracking in protest. “Who’re you? Aside from protection? Because I’ve never seen your face around before and, surely, the crowned prince wouldn’t just hire anyone, would he?”

Somewhat uncomfortable with these questions, the fighter felt more at odds with himself for his first instinct to be looking towards Johnny, of all people. Only the prince seemed to pick up on his uncomfortableness, huffing softly. “Leave him alone, Ten. We met him in a town and he just happened to be free.”

“What town?”

“Southern area.”

With a low hum, the general’s eyes tightened again, looking at Jaehyun intensely. “Let me test him, then. Surely, your uncle wouldn’t be satisfied with you being under measly protection, would he?” 

Considering Johnny had been without a guard until then, Jaehyun wasn’t actually too certain about that. Albeit the prince seemed to care less. “We’re tired. Allow him proper rest before you ask him to strain himself.”

“Shouldn’t he be able to protect you at all times, my prince? Isn’t that what a guard is for?” Ten asked, challenged, to be correct, eyes intent and full of hidden thoughts. This time, Jaehyun didn’t back down and when Johnny wanted to interrupt, again, he placed a placating hand on the royal’s lower arm.

“Allow our horses to be taken away first,” he requested, looking at the general rather than his companions, “And for me to put my luggage somewhere. I’ll gladly meet you wherever you desire after, General.”

“Oh!” For the first time, the man in front of them seemed impressed, waving some soldiers closer. “I’ll have new horses ready for you by tomorrow, including new equipment. Spring will be rainy again, my prince. But you” - his gaze locked upon Jaehyun, again, exhaustion drawn around dark eyes - “meet me at the fireplace when you’re done. I want to see what you’re up to.”

With those words, the older disappeared into his tent, and Johnny’s hand met Jaehyun’s. Without knowing, the younger had dug his fingers into the royal’s arm, in worst case leaving behind marks, yet the prince only looked at him with mercy in his eyes. “You don’t have to-”

“I want to,” he stated, feeling more reluctance than prior anticipated when he had to retreat his limb, digits feeling empty after no longer being curled around anything. “You to and fro, he insulted my pride as a fighter. I can’t just accept that.”

Their gazes weighed heavy upon each other, unspoken words and Jaehyun wished he could understand the language they spoke, the words behind Johnny’s expression, the light furrow between brows and downturned corners of plush lips. Alas, he couldn’t, was left on his own. These feelings of someone worrying about him, he wasn’t used to them. At the Academy, it was each for their own for as long as they stood within the court, fighting others, each other. Comradery was born only outside those limitations.

What startled them both out of their silent showdown was Donghyuck’s clap of hands. “Alright, enough of that eyefucking there. Your tension makes me wanna barf.” Leave it to the youth to be blunt like this, shameless as if social boundaries didn’t exist. “Jaehyun will sleep with you before he ends up vomiting being around Taeyong. The soldiers said we can pick up at the fighting location too, so - hush, hush! Get ready for bed!”

Behind them, Taeil huffed, and it was the last thing resembling a word as they got on their way, Jaehyun just following after the royal. It seemed it was all he could do recently anyways. 

▁⛥⌒*ﾟ.

Some situations had a funny habit of repeating themselves, and in this case it was Johnny kneeling in front of him, basin placed on the furs serving as their sleeping place. The tent wasn’t quite as generous in terms of size as Ten’s had been but it was better than sleeping on bare ground anyways. At least the abundance of blankets and furs served as a cozier bed, even if there only was one.

“You didn’t have to do this,” the prince stated, cloth carefully pressed into Jaehyun’s once again burst knuckles to flush away blood and torn skin. The fight earlier, before their dinner and retreat for the night, had been merciless. Ten had been a better skilled fighter than Jaehyun had anticipated, and he had taken more hits than he should have. What had saved him eventually had been the knowledge about the fighting style similar to Renjun’s. “You could have injured yourself.”

“I’m used to it,” the younger muttered and Johnny’s disapproving gaze was more of a reply to that than he would have liked. Flustered, unlike he had ever felt before, he lowered his head, looking instead at the water slowly turning pink thanks to his blood.

For a while, no more words were exchanged between them as the prince continued washing his wounds, not only those on his hands but his face, too. His lip had burst after one particular punch, his nose barely so short of being broken, and somewhere close to his hairline the skin had gotten torn. A miserable sight for a fighter of his caliber.

When all wounds seemed to be cleared of blood and stopped dripping red only did the royal pull back, small washing bowl and clothed put down near the entrance, away from their belongings and the spread out fur. A silent signal but one Jaehyun knew to interpret, getting to undo his boots to throw into one corner before falling into their tonight’s bed.

Johnny, after a short while, joined him, spreading out blankets above the younger before sliding beneath them. Some inches of distance were kept between them, a silent remark to not yet being that close, regardless, it made the younger uncomfortable. Being physically distant with the others was one thing, it was weirder when it was with the one supposed to wear the crown within a few moons’ time.

Without words, he turned to his side, tried to make out Johnny’s face in the dim light surrounding them, with only two lanterns near the entrance being lit. With all light gone, it truly would be sinister, and albeit the danger of the lanterns falling over and perhaps burn them both down was imminent, Jaehyun still liked it better.

The prince’s expression was hard to read but, for sure, the older looked more relaxed than usually. Maybe it also had to do with, for once, not ending up as Jaehyun’s punching bag who had found a more challenging contender for the night. Yet he had still ended up with the prince, sleeping in the same tent and getting his wounds treated, not for the first time either. 

“Thank you,” he mumbled, because it was long overdue. The man next to him was no longer the one who had asked him how much his freedom would cost, had evolved from some spoilt little nobleman into someone who cared about the crown for the sake of his people not jealous interest. A character upgrade that was interesting to observe. 

When the older gave him a somewhat riddled look, heat rose up the fighter’s neck, coloring his ears a ruddy tone covered only by the dark. “For taking care of my wounds… And all else…”

Full lips were pulled into a faint little smirk as Johnny, too, turned onto his side, allowing them to face each other. Terrifically intimate, intimidating enough to keep the younger in place, listening to the reply, “We should all be looking out for each other. On this journey, we got no one else but us.”

Slightly disoriented, the fighter blinked, thoughts racing a mile a minute, back to that night at the bathhouse. At that time, they hadn’t yet been companions and still, the prince had knelt down to look out for him, behaving in a manner even Jaehyun knew was unfit for a royal, that it was supposed to be the other way around, if anything. He didn’t point that out, though. “You didn’t do so for the others…”

“Because you’re special,” the prince easily replied and, yes, Johnny was right, because he was special, the only one to deliver a solution to a problem haunting them for years. It shouldn’t be more than that and nevertheless, he felt his heart skip a beat and the heat on his ears intensify, for no one had ever said something like that to him and meant it, not currently busy fucking into him like a rutting bunny. “And you’re also shit at taking care of yourself.”

Like a mirror breaking, this moment was halted, too, cracking into little pieces and falling down. It made it easier to ignore his own roughly beating useless organ only needed to pump blood, as Jaehyun wrinkled his nose and pouted his lips. “I’ll take my words back,” he huffed, ignoring how close it sounded to a whine, actually, and turned around onto his other side, declaring, “Good night!”

Behind him, Johnny snickered and without expecting of it, one arm wrapped around Jaehyun’s waist, pulling him back until their bodies collided, spine against abs, warmth against warmth. “You shouldn’t sleep so far away, Jaehyunnie. Else your prince will get cold.”

Regarding mere logic, the younger knew he should pull away, get at least some inches of distance between them. Only his body didn’t obey, didn’t tense and get ready to move but the opposite, relaxing into the loose embrace, Goosebumps spreading on his skin with warm breath tickling his nape. The last time he had slept like this, he must have been a child only, bracketed by Wendy’s homey presence. That night, he had slept like a baby, continued it on for a few weeks until he couldn’t bear being made fun of anymore.

It was just conditioning, he told himself, as he felt his body go lax, turning pliant. Fingers caressed along the front of his stomach, tracing the lines of his muscles through his shirt in always the same rhythm, working like hypnosis on him. It was just for the warmth, he excused his reluctance to move to himself, that it wasn’t Johnny’s proximity that lulled him to restful sleep. 

▁⛥⌒*ﾟ.

The flapping of the tent’s door woke him in the morning, too aggressive to not be meant to wake them up, even though it only roused the younger. With bleary eyes he looked at the entrance, at the slender figure dressed in black against the bright morning light. It took him a few moments to realize it was Ten, of all people, who had interrupted his rest, a reality that only hit him clearly when the general spoke up. “The bodyguard, huh?”

“What…?” The younger repeated, eyebrows drawn in confusion and the answer presented itself as he tried to sit up. Johnny’s arm weighed heavy around his waist, their sleeping position hadn’t changed at all throughout the night, and it explained the lack of cold he had experienced this night. Not only the abundance of furs and the thick blankets, it had also been the prince’s warmth that had radiated about. 

“It’s not-” He started, eyes widened in what must be considered a comical manner as he stared at the basically stranger, distress in his own voice.

“I don’t care,” the cursed man cut him off, neither malice nor mercy in his voice. “I want a rematch. Before they’re all up and about my ass not challenging you again. So get ready, will you?”

One week of not getting up early was enough to mess with Jaehyun’s sleeping habits, usually easily getting up in the morning, he struggled with squirming out from underneath Johnny’s arm without rousing the latter and finding his shoes now. Ten, be it patience or a need for control, waited at the entrance of the tent still, cold seeping in through the parted fabric, and the younger felt with the still asleep prince. It motivated him to hurry, his boots in his hands and coat on his shoulder as he stepped outside.

No words were spoken between them as they approached the center of the camp where the soil had been dug up for training purposes and the giant bonfire was already lit so the cooks in charge could prepare breakfast. Tending so many people at once must be no easy task but he didn’t question it, culinary interests had never been his forte. Fighting, though, was.

Carelessly he dropped his boots and coat in one corner of their supposed ring, soles against the frozen earth uncomfortable and grounding at once. Ten, too, got ready for the match and while he did, the younger did some stretchings. Normally, he would have run around town already, got some proper warm-up exercises in, now cut short of that pleasure all thanks to the other’s commands.

At least he was given sufficient time to have all his bones cracking once, before their steps carried them closer to each other on the field. Around them, already a few soldiers had met up, early for breakfast and presented with a surprise instead. Their prior fight had already drawn attention, Jaehyun could only anticipate this would be all the more. 

“You’re not around only to guard the prince, are you?” The general suddenly spoke up, too quiet to be heard by anyone more than a few feet away which, coincidentally, everyone was. “You’re looking too much like someone special for that.”

How foolish, to think they had tricked Ten. After Yuta had already pointed it out, and Ten was of a higher rank too, Jaehyun should have seen it coming. Alas, he hadn’t, had trusted too much in Johnny’s and Taeyong’s words. Why was it he always stepped into these traps, taking him off guard and feeling so horribly uncomfortable.

Rather than replying, he raised his leg for a surprise kick, using an angle that would be be misunderstood as aiming for his opponent’s chin from below, when instead he deterred sideways and aimed for Ten’s temple. Barely so did the older dodge it but the moment of surprise gave Jaehyun the advantage of following it up with an elbow hit. 

When Ten pulled back, it was already easy to anticipate the following move. The roundhouse kick that missed, the shift of weight towards a one-handed handstand to get the momentum for another kick from above, the kind to bridge their difference in height. A very young Sicheng had once done the same, allowing Jaehyun to counter by dropping to his knees and pushing the general over, balance weakened from his arm-based stance. 

For a few moments, they tumbled over the ground, trying to gain advantage over each other, and it was within this better proximity the older spoke up again, “I’m not meaning to hinder you. Not now, at least. Whoever threatens the crown, it is my duty to stop them. Heed my words.”

“Why?” Jaehyun grunted, blocking the hits coming from Ten tackling him down with his arms, the force wrenching and making his bones ache. In a moment of opening, he pushed the older off and quickly brought some distance between them again, using the chance to get up. “Why are you bringing this up when I’m already beating your ass?”

Cocky grin on his lips, he could see the short glint of irritation in the general’s eyes, before going in for another attack. One higher aimed kick, meant to hook to his neck and make him fall, was easily broken when he willingly went along with it, catching his momentum with his hands and rolling away. At the same time, he brought forth one of his legs, hitting Ten’s feet who stumbled with the force. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to send him flying entirely. 

“Because,” the general gasped, the brawl taking a toll on both of them, “I can’t allow anyone to threaten the crown I am meant to protect.”

“I’m not,” Jaehyun muttered, shifting his weight around on his feet, “Planning to threaten your crown.” Without warning, as much warning as there could be in a fight anyways, he rushed forth for a tackle, arm coming around the smaller man’s waist. The force easily sent both of them to the ground, the older taking most of its impact. 

“Not yet!” Ten hissed, thrashing around in a hold that was hard to break, legs blocked and hands held down. “But the day you will-”

“The day I might,” the younger interrupted, eyebrows furrowed as he looked at the general who was slowly ceasing to revolt in the tackle, “I hope we won’t cross paths, general. I wouldn’t want to cross swords with you.”

Carefully, Jaehyun parted from his opponent, waiting for a retort that never was to come. The general merely sat up, contemplation in his eyes as he looked at the winner of the fight. Maybe the ease over losing came with age for Ten definitely looked more relaxed about it than Jaehyun ever had.    
Not yet, Ten had said, and not yet had the despair to win overcome the cursed man. But it would, eventually. A curse pitched against another curse, fighting for dominance to break a Blood Curse. It sure seemed like his destiny had fated him to meet with a dozen of those in too little time, cross their paths, cross their fate. It would be sufficient reason for the headache already creeping up on him, except he knew it was to be blamed on the tea he had not yet drunk.

“You will need to learn the way of the sword before you throw yourself into a fight you can’t win. Learn them well, else you will find me at an advantage, bloodied child.” 

Slightly, the younger cocked his head to the side, the new title ringing in his ears. He wondered, though, whether Ten was yet aware of the entity of their plan or whether the tale of a blessed and cursed sword was no more than that to them, a tale, a story to tell their kids but not take serious. And he wondered for himself, whether a sword meant to bestow victory upon its carrier was quite as effective if its hold did not know how to grab it. 

“Will there be a reward if I ever were to prove your words wrong, General?”

“Cocky.” For the first time since their arrival, Ten grinned, face nearly split in half from sadistic delight, looking more feline than ever before. “Don’t go crying into Johnny’s arms if you lose, bloodied child. If you don’t succeed, you’re all suffering the loss of your head.”

“You make it sound like you care. Aren’t you standing with the king?”

“A king is a king. A friend is a friend.”

Low in his throat the younger hummed. In the ring, too, all were the same, were they a friend or stranger, it hadn’t ever mattered to him. So now again he could feel with Ten, much as it had the hair at his nape bristling in ominous thrill. This one, this upcoming future, it might be more troublesome than he first might have thought. 

▁⛥⌒*ﾟ.

There was something unexpectedly soothing about just looking up at the sky, watching the stars twinkle so far above, impossibly far out of his reach. It made him wish to just reach up, be able to touch the sparkling little bits of whatever floating around up there. Like sand dusted up by the wind, the misty white was painted into the blackness of the firmament.

Almost beautiful enough to make him forget about everything around him, about the roughness of the fallen tree trunk he was leaning against, the coldness of the nearly frozen ground, the soft snores from the tent across the campfire and the low murmur of the wind playing through trees. Almost, because outweighing all of this had been a bout of homesickness. For more than a week he had been away from his friends and the town he had grown up in, it felt like too much when he hadn’t ever been away from there before. This night, he couldn’t help missing them, all their playful banter, their joking and teasing and Wendy’s sudden interruptions, always to their delight. 

It wasn’t like Donghyuck and Taeil and Taeyong weren’t good company, they were generously entertaining, but it wasn’t home, just like the stars he could see right now weren’t the same he could see back at his port town. Not too far away from him, he knew Johnny was in the tent, maybe waiting for him, maybe already asleep. The excuse of wanting to finish his tea in peace would only last him for so long and yet, the prince was a deep sleeper, not easily roused merely by a lack of warmth. Although it was noteworthy that the tents made it a bit easier to keep out the cold at night.

It seemed the further west they got the milder the temperatures seemed to be, and he could vaguely recall someone having taught him about the western ocean being warmer, inviting spring to their lands. More than ever before it seemed accurate, at the same time it was more foreboding. Just earlier this day he had been warned of the increasing rain, something they could deal with at night, thanks to the tents, but it might end up being troublesome during the day, when they were riding approaching the Meadows and getting wet all throughout. 

All the more so it was an even better reason as to why he was still watching the stars, taking his time to while he could, rather than to go to sleep and miss it by the time the rainy season would come down on them. He wished it could last longer, like time getting frozen, because rustling inside their tent reminded him Johnny was still waiting for him. But how cruel that would be, to get stuck in a moment of missing home so much.

With a mental sigh he placed his hands on the tree trunk to push himself up, and he regretted it right the moment after. His palm scraped across the dry surface, making him hiss from the burning sensation. Not like he was a wussy, it was just the unexpectedness of getting injured, making it nearly laughable that he was surprised by getting his skin scratched from nature because he was too used to seeing the punches coming that would tear his lips and make him spit blood.

In the end, it was just going circles, and this night all seemed to come down to thinking of home, missing home. Suddenly he was regretting not having said goodbye, by not bidding farewell he hadn’t been able to tell them what he wanted to most, didn’t get to tell Mark to go where his heart would lead him, or advised Sicheng to keep better guard of his left side, or-

“You’re looking constipated,” a warm voice interrupted the train of his thoughts, startled Jaehyun not because there was someone talking but  _ who _ was talking. His head whipped around and, true to his thoughts, Yuta was there, sitting on the tree trunk next to him, feet tucked under his knees and a teasing glint in his bronzen eyes. 

At the confusion on the younger’s face, the witcher merely shrugged his shoulders before his eyes went down. Following his gaze, Jaehyun could see the tiny specks of blood forming on his hand, the deeper scratches and the splinter lodged into the skin around the curve his thumb. 

“Blood magic is a funny thing,” the witcher started, eyes glowing too bright in the dark. Like a cat’s they reflected the light of the embers that immediately lit up again, turned into a small fire keeping wild animals away. “Our magic… It’s a bit more complicated. We start with spells and insignia, and only those of us who master these arts are able to bend the flow of natural magic to our will, but it’s manipulation rather than creation. Yours, though, yours is easier.” 

A little smile formed on Yuta’s face, propper onto his palm as if to point out how he was perfectly unscathed, elbow against his knee. “All you need is intent, and a certain amount of blood to be spilt. Making a flower grow might take little less than a droplet but wishing a river dry might equal a demand of you passing out. This” - the witcher’s free hand vaguely gestured at the wound - “is enough to call for me.”

Wind was still playing around the air, making the branches dance and Jaehyun’s hair move. Unlike Yuta’s. Like a still image, the older remained, his pajamas too cold for the weather but it didn’t seem to matter, the breeze didn’t touch the magician, left his clothes and hair unaffected. It was impossible not to notice. “Why are you…?”

“You called,” the older shrugged it off, just like that, as if it were that easy and, looking at the red on his skin, it probably was. “But you’re also fortunate. Projection is not the art everyone likes to master, you’ll encounter enough mages insisting that illusions are weak magic. No better than throwing your towel.”

“And you don’t?” Jaehyun asked as he pulled his knees to his chest, resting his crossed arms on top. Like that, red would likely seep into the sandy hue of his pants, a problem he could deal with later, too. 

“Illusions are strong.” Only once, the witcher snapped his fingers, a short signal, the moment the world around the fighter went black. No flickering flames, no rustling winds, just Yuta’s voice remained as he spoke up, “We rely on our sense. If we can’t hear or see, how can we find who we battle? It’s a two-edged sword, Jaehyun. The things we see aren’t always the things we believe to see. Which is exactly the might of illusions.” Then, like an afterthought, the white haired man laughed and added, “It also allows me to talk to you like this. So tell me, how is your journey coming along?”

“Taeil said we’re reaching the Meadows soon,” Jaehyun answered, hand ruffling through his midnight hair slowly. Whatever soon meant, he barely had any idea of what their country even looked like, barely so could remember their kingdom’s name, so whether it was relative or absolute, he wouldn’t be able to tell. “And then we need to get past them…”

“The Western Meadows, hm?” Yuta looked up at the sky thoughtfully, not too different to what the younger had done before, “Western Meadows…” It seemed to take a few seconds for recognition to light up in those shimmering eyes, liquid pools of metals, but before a question could followed, they were interrupted.

“Jaehyun? Who are you talking to?” Johnny, barely visible from behind the tent’s flapped open entrance, asked, unruly hair messed up from sleep. He looked attractive like this, more than when he was put together, Jaehyun noted, regretting the thought right after.

“Just…” He started but, turning his head back the other direction, Yuta was gone, carried away by the wind, had disappeared as silently as he had taken form. “Just myself, I guess…” His heart ached, like giving a starving man a single bite of bread, he craved for more, for a taste of home, the comfort of his friends and with their judge around, he had forgotten about it for all of a moment only. 

“Come here,” the prince beckoned, and the younger found himself unable to refuse the call, limbs moving before his mind had caught on. Sooner than he thought possible, he felt Johnny’s fingers wrap around his wrist and tugging him inside, the royal on his knees but helping him out of his boots and coat. A messy heap, their clothes always were like that, dropped in a corner of their tent as the taller maneuvered them to their little sleeping place.

Less grande than the tents at the camp, they were still comfortable, and they had more furs and blankets with them after they had been granted a second carriage horse. Their assignments had been out of practicality, based on the simple fact that Jaehyun still suffered bouts of migraine whenever he was around Taeyong for too long, and Johnny, as the prince, shouldn’t have to share with more than one person. It had worked the night at the camp so they could make it work for longer as well. It wasn’t even like Jaehyun was against it, neither did it mean he could make sense of Johnny being quite the cuddle person at night, arm wrapped around the younger’s waist, looking for closeness and warmth alike. 

In the entire lack of light, it was some gruesome task to try to find the splinter piercing his skin but it ached, and it was distracting, and it bothered Jaehyun. At the same time, it was a welcome distraction to hot breath hitting the back of his neck, the other body pressed against his. Next to the prince he slept better, deeper, but it didn’t outrule his insomnia entirely, and every moment before dreamland called for him was spent in agony. 

Nothing short of weird, he had never reacted like this to someone else, and he wished there was someone he could ask. This, at last, was something he couldn’t talk about to the other three, and especially not Johnny himself, but it was egging him, occupying his mind in the mornings and at night, when they couldn’t help but be locked up together in the same place of sleep. 

“The stars are pretty tonight,” he suddenly pointed out, silent even for a whisper, serving not only to take his own thoughts to a different space but also to find out whether the older was yet asleep. Sometimes he could talk, ramble about the most unnecessary of things, and the only way he knew whether or not he had a listener was by the lack or not of a reply. This night, it seemed, it wasn’t over as soon.

“You’re prettier…” The prince’s words were barely audible, especially not when he slid down a bit, face buried between Jaehyun’s shifting shoulder blades from where he still fumbled around his wound. His skin burned where he touched it, felt roughed up because of the surficial scraping and dried blood, and that stubborn piece of wood was still there. 

That didn’t mean he didn’t hear these words, neither was he able to forget them. All Jaehyun could do was focus on this injury of his, proof of his own carelessness, before he’d have to overthink these words heard. When Johnny hadn’t even seen the stars, hadn’t looked at them, had spent the time inside the tent waiting, how would he know? It sounded too much like what he had been taught by the girls at the brothel, about teasing and jesting and playing, and it bothered him. Because this was not a brothel, and he wasn’t used to men asking for much more of him than a good beating.

“On the first day already,” Johnny went on, shifting again, his arm tightening around Jaehyun’s middle and eradicating any and all distance between them, “You were the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. And then you can also punch so well… You’re really something, Jaehyunnie…”

He wanted to follow up, wanted to ask more, but the prince’s words had already come out muffled, and only seconds later, a single snore followed. The older was asleep, had left Jaehyun hanging just like this, who was still so upset with this stupid wound of his. Like a storm wave, fast and efficient, heat rushed through the torn flesh, a sensation not unlike touching a pot above an open fire, impossible to touch with bare hands. But there was no fire now, only heat, and he couldn’t help touching his palm again. Instead of rough scratches, it was softer than it had ever been.

“Great…” He muttered to himself, because apparently his magic worked and he didn’t know how despite everyone just telling him it was about blood. How was it supposed to make sense when never before it had worked, when all his annoyance with torn knuckles and bruised eyes hadn’t been enough to vanish them despite all of his blood having already been spilt, again and again. Ever since he had been told he had magic, he seemed to feel it, in the air surrounding him, rushing through him, seemed to be able to do, as based on even just these two moments today. 

Like this, Jaehyun could only wish it to be less complicated. Magic - his magic - or this fate of theirs, his purpose in this game of chess involving real people, a king to be slayed, a queen to triumph, but there was no woman around, and the sword was too far away. The prince and the crown and that golden tongue, telling him the things he had been told to tell punters, the pretty words he wasn’t told unless someone preferred ass over cunt and they had to substitute, the warmth he wasn’t used to receive from anyone but Wendy at their shared tender age. Like his headache, he wished there was tea to numb his thoughts as well, to help him sleep.

Instead, he felt restless, turned onto his back within Johnny’s hold who wasn’t even bothered, simply adjusted, head on the younger’s chest, arm and leg thrown around his frame. Like a puppy with its mother, the noble was clingy, attached, but not with everyone else, and that much he had been told. It was confusing, riddling, and his thoughts went in circles until they, too, had to give in to fatigue and the comfort of Johnny’s embrace. 

▁⛥⌒*ﾟ.

Weapons of any and all sort were but an extension of the body, he could remember Yuta once tell them over lunch when Jeno had brought up the questions. It had been followed by the witcher joking, telling them they better not start sparring with swords lest they lose a limb. Now, years later, it made more sense as to why their local judge had denied them these arts, had probably seen too many wounds of his own already.

Almost it had him feel sorry towards the magician, that he had to go against these words, but if he was destined to find and lead some magical sword, there hardly could be a way to control it if not by learning the basics first. Too embarrassed to ask for training, he had taken to using branches instead, holding them in his hand, trying to get a feel for it as he swung them around, trying to imagine what it was like to wield a weapon. In short, it was embarrassing, just another reason as to why he hadn’t asked for help. Just standing there and swinging a branch, hitting trees until the wood broke, it hardly was admirable or prideful.

Since a few days he had practiced already, heeding Ten’s prior advice, and he did feel a bit more comfortable within the movements, the swings came more easily, his shoulder was less sore, but it didn’t mean he was feeling any better. Like shadow boxing, you wouldn’t know the results of your efforts unless you were called into action, and he refused to, had no one else to ask but Johnny and the prince had already done too much for him. A week of sparring in the early of dawn, he shouldn’t be asking for more of that when they should all reserve their energies still. 

Quite the hypocritic thought when it was him training so early in the morning, knowing everyone else was still asleep or too dizzy from dreams they wouldn’t look for him, and by the time they were up, there was enough noise to rouse him from his task as well. There was no way he would miss the looks Johnny sent him, though, knowing there was something going on but not what, simply because it wasn’t normal to repetitively wake up on his own. At this point it simply was a wonder the prince hadn’t woke up earlier himself, just to find out what exactly Jaehyun had been doing since days.

Maybe it would change this day, for the sound of twigs on the ground snapping under weight called for his attention. A wild animal was no longer his first assumptions, instead, adrenaline rushed through his body momentarily as he twisted his head. It was not Johnny, against his better assumptions, but rather Donghyuck who approached him this morning, snarky eyes tracing over the fighter’s stance, the branch in his hands, and the adolescent’s face morphed into a grinning one. “You’re finally growing into your role?”

Teasing words, they made the older smile too as he lightly shook his head. “I’ve made my decision, haven’t I?” In a bit of a distracted manner, he swung the branch in circles at his side, as he added jokingly, “Not like I can go back now anyways.” He could, maybe, but he’d likely end up getting lost, all while guilt was still rattling his bones. 

It seemed after he had been at the camp, he could no longer escape these thoughts. Yuta and Ten, they had gotten to know about them, but so had he about the king. The dark magic used, he hadn’t considered it until he had seen it, all these young soldiers moving around like marionettes, achieving their tasks like a well oiled machine, it shouldn’t be so odd. Moments in between were, like during Ten’s and his brawl, when interest or fear had flickered in their eyes and just a second later it was gone again, washed away by magic, expressions clouded and closed off.

That it was magic had been obvious, like the stench of rotten flesh it had hung in the air, and too many herbs looking like bad omen had been added to the warm meals. Just why Taeyong had advised them to get food first or not at all, why they should rely on the cold goods like bread and cheese, stock up on dried meat. By no means, under no circumstances, should they touch the tea. Knowing the magic lying within it after consuming it himself for a while, he could not fathom what kind of effect it had on those taking it for weeks, months, maybe years. However long the king had already built his army, a sea of black tents already in a single camp.

“You need to widen your legs,” the younger pointed out amidst the silence, dropping on the ground with crossed legs, elbows on his knees. At Jaehyun’s confused gaze he elaborated, “You’re used to dodging hits from physical fight but the same thing does not count for swords. In a battle of weapons, you need to take the hit, and deflect it instead, and for that, you need to have a better stance.”

Lightly raising his eyebrows, the fighter looked at the nobleman, shifting his feet around to do was he was told. The younger released a satisfied sound, at the same time pulling out some jerky to gnaw at. “The sword might promise your victory but it’s worth little if you end up dying after.”

“That is what you think will happen?” Jaehyun inquired, taking a firm hold of the branch once more to swing it around, hitting the tree in front of him. “That I’ll end up dying?”

“All of us might end up dying.” Simple like that, not a prophecy but a fact, the younger didn’t lie about it. At least that much was reassuring. “You should wake me tomorrow. I’ll help you with this, or we won’t get anywhere.” Donghyuck seemed to reconsider his words for a moment prior declaring, “Well, you won’t get anywhere with this. I already know how to do that… stuff.” Vaguely the golden boy waved his hand around, gesturing at Jaehyun and the branch. 

A call for the kid’s name had them both looking back into the direction of their camp where surely Taeyong was already preparing breakfast while Taeil tried to get the prince to join his food hunt. By deduction, and by the looks of the youngest reaching for some smaller branches, it would have been his task to gather firewood.

“Let me help you,” the fighter offered, halting his practice that had already found an end to start gathering the drier pieces of wood as well. it would become more troublesome later on, when the weather were to get wet, when rain would come down on them, when wood would be too moist to light a fire. 

When both their arms were loaded with material to feed the flames, they made to track back to the camp, a walk that would last them merely three minutes or maybe for. It wasn’t far nor much, it was but a matter of privacy. At that time it was that Donghyuck spoke up again, curiously glinting eyes turned to the taller. “Why didn’t you ask anyone for help? Johnny would have or-”

“Sometimes,” Jaehyun interrupted, a bit of a wry smile on his lips, “it’s better not to ask for help, kid.” Because sometimes the price one had to pay did outweigh the result, and he didn’t like to strain others about matters he could resolve on his own - wanted to resolve on his own.

The look he received in return could not described as anything better than stinky, the younger not delighted, and it made Jaehyun smile. Because Donghyuck, just like Jeno or Mark, carried this shimmed of innocence in his eyes, of not yet having experienced the worst of times. “Sometimes it’s wiser to ask for help.”

Maybe Renjun would have been the same if only he actually started talking to them, although it wasn’t his place to judge that. If possible, he would have told the younger to open up more, before he’d be missing chances without realizing them. There might still be a time he could do so in the future, perhaps a chance to rely the message through Yuta, too. 

“Sometimes,” he only smiled, and before their conversation could carry along for longer, they had already reached their small camp, encountered Taeyong’s bright golden eyes. The branches and twigs were called forth with a wink of the mage’s fingers, floating through the air and nicely stacking on top of the kindling flame to burst into a proper fire. 

With another look at Donghyuck, the fighter added, “But sometimes isn’t always, kid.” It might be a bit to think about, based on the naive tenacity in young eyes. What a funny thing, Donghyuck had probably seen more of this world but had withheld so much of his youthful spirit as well. It was a striking contrast between the two of them but rather than perceiving their difference like a cliff growing between the two of them, it made Jaehyun’s heart grow with fondness for the younger. To keep the innocence in the kids’ eyes, it had always been what he had wanted. 

▁⛥⌒*ﾟ.

Screeching, the hawk above them interrupted its circles for a fast nosedive, majestic wings folded in visible against the drizzle, easy to observe without the sun’s blinding light. True to their expectations, the rainy days had started, affecting the west more than the south and shelter was rare in the Meadows. Slowly the mountains had come closer, intimidating with their impressive height and in return, the woods behind them barely were visible anymore, had been left behind days ago.

If already the abundance of trees was out of sight, it was beyond Jaehyun’s imagination how far they had already derived from the coast and the port town they had started at. For another moment he watched the hawk becoming smaller in the distance before he twisted his head, trying to see how far they had come. Instead, all he could see was endless brown mud, the earth soft from the rain and barren, lacking the beauty of sprouting grass. Much as it could be beautiful, it was kind of hard for Jaehyun to imagine such sight. 

In front of him Taeyong’s frame jerked then shuddered, the magician had been once again slumped over his horse and was rousing now. The white of his eyes swallowed by black, pupils blown to the point the gold had been reduced to but a golden band. A novice would be able to tell it was magic, the darkness slowly receding and shrinking, the mage spoke up, “There’s a cottage we can reach if we ride past sunset. I suggest we seek shelter there and take some rest tomorrow before we head out for the remains of this journey. They,” he gently patted his horse’s neck, “need a break, too.”

“Sure,” the prince agreed, eyes curious as he looked ahead, tried to glimpse past the rain. Albeit only a light drizzle and there being a lack of wind blowing it into their faces, it was still somewhat difficult to look too far ahead. “The house…?”

Sadly the mage smiled at the royal, and it might be all of an answer needed to such question, one even Jaehyun could draw a conclusion from. Less so was it a challenge to deduct it further, to figure out who was the king to sacrifice his pawns to create his knight. A game of chess but only one had a limitless supply of figurines. 

“I’ll take care of it,” the witcher muttered, barely audible, but he turned forward again, slumping forward over his horse again. Jaehyun had long since ceased to question it, and as the hawk returned to draw circles above them, it felt like the reply was just within an arm’s length anyhow.

“Care to share a bed with me tonight?” Johnny’s teasing voice resounded next to him, calling for the younger’s attention who paid the royal a curious glance. A huff escaped Jaehyun’s lips in retort, before his eyes returned upwards, gazing through falling drops at the hawk, as if the bird could offer the answers he craved, or at least lead the way to their destination so they could reach there fast. The idea of galloping ahead, it was tempting, to get there faster, out of the rain. 

Alas, the hawk remained in its place, not abandoning the mage it was bound to, and the fighter had no means to talk to the bird without the ability to control magic in such way. Magic… Thoughtfully he looked at his palm, the one he had healed without intent, where not even a blemish remained.

“Jaehyun?” Johnny asked again, drawing attention from the younger whose eyes traveled up. The prince looked thoughtful, considerate - charming. No one was supposed to look good while being like a drowned rat, hair clumpy and wet, raindrops surely soaking past all their collar’s and into their clothes. “You don’t want to share a bed with me?”

Lightly, the mentioned raised his eyebrow before shaking his head. A mistake, his tresses flopped around, back into his face, so he brushed them back. Not without noting the intent gaze he received by the older. “Can’t get enough of me yet?”

“No,” the prince smiled, dark and gentle alike, the hungry wolf luring in its prey with love, “Not yet.”

It was dark by the time they had reached the cottage but be it long or shortly after sunset he wasn’t able to tell. With the clouds heavy from rain, it was close to impossible to tell what time it was aside from telling day and night apart, but basing it on the exhaustion he felt, Jaehyun concluded it was past their dinner time already.

A small distance from the house, two heaps of freshly dug earth were located, the query no longer needed. He hadn’t stared at those for too long, rather offered to tend to the horses so the others could head inside first. Especially Taeyong must need it, after using magic for a longer time, not only to do whatever he did all day long normally, he had also illuminated their way through the dark, orbs of light floating and dancing around, leading their way.

The stable was well built and sturdy but, more than that, a lithic furnace had been built into one wall , assuring none of the animals would start a fire by toppling something over yet ensuring they were kept warm at night. After the bunch of wet nights they had needed to endure already, Jaehyun only thought it fair to spare them some warmth for once, lighting the fire before he went to retrieve water and food for them.

Rubbing them dry and taking off all their saddles took some longer than he had anticipated, he felt weary by the time he could head into the house, yet he thought it worth so when he was greeted by the warm scent of food. The others, too, must have done well of their time, a pot hanging over the open fire, candles placed around to illuminate the main room, and apparently they had also found more than that.

“Jaehyunnie,” Taeyong giggled into his cup, cheeks visibly flushed red despite the bad light, “Hyuckie found some wine. Join us!” Like a bad comedy, and looking awfully much like a totally wasted Yuta, the mage turned to the oldest human of their group and mimicked a cat. While Taeil cooed at the witcher, Jaehyun couldn’t help wonder whether that’s maybe just a magic thing then.

Instead of joining them immediately, he took a detour to the fireplace to heap some food into a bowl he found, and settled next to the others. Next to Johnny, to be exact, because it had been the only empty spot and neither did the prince seemed to mind. On the contrary, not only were they used to physical closeness already, the older placed a cup of wine down in front of him, followed by one warmed up hand dropping heavily on Jaehyun’s thigh.

At first, the younger wanted to ignore it, along with Donghyuck’s meaningful gaze, albeit that hardly was trustworthy for the younger was already inebriated, the kind of state when any rational thought was already gone. The combination of these four intoxicated, and Johnny’s hand rubbing circles into his thigh, made for an interesting combination. Most of all, though, it reminded him of their first days, as his legs had ached and the prince had massaged them, the way those tender fingers had pressed into his thigh and the heat that had spread from there.

Then, he had blamed it on sensitivity, on the sense of comfort it bore, now he was no longer certain. Without doubt he had grown to feel solace around the noble, more than the distaste he had had for him at first. The day Johnny had asked for the price tag attached to his neck seemed like too long ago, replaced by warming embraces at the late of night. How much they could evolve, though, he had not considered.

Rushing back came the memories, overwriting what was going on in his mind, the memory of that first time, when digits pressing through his clothes had heat collecting in his guts, an aching reminder of the pleasures he hadn’t received in too long. It was a twisted thing, this rare task of selling his body - it didn’t leave him satisfied but it made it impossible to ignore the existence of physical pleasures. For the women it was not shameful to work in the bathhouse, they all had to make money, they were treated well and not looked down upon, but they, the boys and men, were made to make profits in different ways. They had their roles, switching was weird. Nobody wanted to see one of the ladies get beaten up, similarly, it seemed weird to encounter one of the men in the bathhouse for anything but personal hygiene.

Forest fires, he had been told from one of Yuta’s many tales, sometimes were put down by intentionally inciting flames. Burn off a ring, deprive the raging fires off their fodder, they would die down. Eat the food the rats might steal and they, too, would disappear again, or simply die first. Counter fire with fire, heat with heat. Jaehyun downed the wine in his cup in hopes of being able to forget about Johnny’s ever-present hand, neglect the warmth spreading from such little touch.

Progressively worse did Taeil and Taeyong take to the alcohol, the witcher barely able to stutter a single word from laughing so much while the human was just petting white hair, looking dazed. Donghyuck, at least, seemed to be able to hold his stance on the physical tasks, not staggering as much in his step as the jumbled story he had attempted telling might suggest. All in all, it had made for interesting dinner entertainment, the kind Jaehyun hadn’t anticipated neither had he disliked it. Merely, it had been unexpected.

“Alright,” the kid decided, just after getting up, feet spread further than usual, but the fighter did not comment on that, “I’ll take these two to bed and you” - he waved his hand around, perhaps wanting to express something, surely failing at it, though - “do whatever you want, I guess.”

With more strength than should be withheld in such slender frame, Donghyuck pulled Taeil first and then Taeyong up, taking upon himself the exhausting way it was to get these two moving towards the door at the back of the room, leading to one of the bedrooms. There was no second floor, it would make sense for the sleeping spots to be on even ground, making for an easier house to build. 

“Don’t be mislead,” Johnny spoke up, as the kid was still struggling with holding the witcher up on his legs, the oldest staggering, barely able to stand not to mention walk. Steps messy, it was a wonder they hadn’t come crashing down just yet. Like a catastrophe no longer to be evaded, Jaehyun couldn’t take his eyes from it but neither could he act on it. Just another twisted kind of situation. “Tomorrow he’ll suffer the hardest out of all us.”

The door slammed shut, the fighter turned his gaze to the side before he changed his position. Unfurling his legs and turning a good ninety degrees to look at the prince meant he was finally ridded of that impish hand, a sensation he wasn’t sure whether to miss or not. “How would you know I’m not off worse than him?”

“Because,” the prince grinned, twisting in his spot just to lean further into Jaehyun’s space, “he drank half of what you downed but you only have these…” One hand reached forth, tracing along one of the younger’s ruddy ears, heated and flushed from the alcohol, albeit the reason quickly became a different one. Johnny’s fingers went lower, following the line of Jaehyun’s jaw, pointer finger drawing along until it was below the younger’s chin.

There were a bunch of emotions burning in the royal’s eyes, but only one Jaehyun could identify for sure - greed, the selfish claws of lust. He had seen it in the cloudied eyes of whoremongers, had seen it as they leered the girls, had seen it himself, too. He hadn’t anticipated such feelings to be cloying around them now, wasn’t sure whether it was the warmth of the fireplace or of the alcohol, radiating from Johnny or from him. The sensation of abashment he recognized, crawling up his back, making him slide back a bit further.

“Cute,” Johnny smiled, but this time he didn’t follow up, allowed the younger a moment to gather his wits. Between the matters of the mind, of the heart, of the body, Jaehyun had never felt a cliff growing as drastic as this. Getting it on with a paying customer was easy, a transaction, pay the money, get the goods, it was the same category as was buying a meal at the tavern for them. But this, this energy between them, it was different.

It was new, flowing, like fire swallowing wood, enabled him to relate to the stories of flustered maidens and damsels in distress, suddenly he was at a loss of what to do. Confidence wasn’t foreign to him but confidence was more easily achieved if thoughts weren’t cloyed by alcohol, when he wasn’t thrown into a situation like cold water. Suddenly, it seemed, all these lessons on flirting he had taken had evaded his mind.

“Recently,” he started, letting his lip travel across his lower lip. He didn’t miss the way Johnny’s eyes darted down and, oh, that was a signal he could work with. Fake a punch, watch the opponent dodge. Lick your lip, see Johnny’s focus shift. “You mentioned something. Called me beautiful.”

Instantly, the prince’s gaze snapped upwards, looked to analyze the fighter as much as he had been analyzed. It was a moment of triumph for Jaehyun as he bit down on his lip, as he could see Johnny’s line of thoughts breaking again. “You are,” the royal insisted, unknowingly making the other shudder at the praise, “When we arrived, I didn’t know who’d the Jeong kid would be but I had my eyes on you immediately. So when you were addressed… I considered the gods must have blessed me for once.”

“Had you been a whoremonger,” the younger retorted, licking his lips again out of nervosity, not able to miss the reaction it evoked alike, “I wouldn’t have turned you down. But you really had to put a price on my freedom…”

Lightly Johnny raised his eyebrows, seeming to hesitate for a moment about whatever it was, static for some seconds. Eventually, he reached for the bottle of wine to drink from it foregoing the cup, be it for selfish reasons or courage could not possibly be seen. “You’re saying I could pay for your body but not your freedom?”

“You could just ask for my body,” Jaehyun answered, and a second too late he realized what he had just said. His eyes widened slightly but it was already too late, the dark intent had been aroused within the older’s dark eyes, and even backtracking might no longer work. Regardless, he tried, “I mean, if you buy my freedom, I’m bound to you but my body is-”

He never got to finish to rush through his words, not with lips pressing against his softly, steady for a moment, then moving slowly, carefully. It was softer than any kiss he had ever received, but the instant he showed the slightest reaction it changed. Gone was the affection, got replaced by passion, by insistent need. And this, this was something Jaehyun was familiar with, could handle.

With an efficiency undeserving of the time and alcohol, he hauled the taller closer by his clothes before rolling them around, straddling Johnny’s hips in a fluent move. Both too interested to part, their kiss never broke, despite the surprised grunt escaping plush royal lips upon getting thrown on his back like this. A chance Jaehyun used easily, sliding his tongue past, only to feel the momentum of bravery slip out of him again.

Kissing was not exactly the kind of activity people would engage in at the whorehouse, it was an area he was inexperienced at. Fleeting like a spark, gratitude lit up within his heart when Johnny took charge again, had their tongues dancing around within their mouths without allowing Jaehyun to feel shy just yet. Along with it came warm hands sliding beneath the younger’s clothes, tracing along his sides, his back, raising Goosebumps in their wake. 

One particular press of fingers against the curve of his lower back had him gasping, his hips pressing down to be met by the realization he was not the only one affected by this. At the same time, the knot in his stomach tightened, arousal flowing through his veins hotly, and while never with such intensity he wasn’t foreign to the feeling. Such revelation alone had his mind spinning, the idea that because it was Johnny it felt good, because it was Johnny he was aroused.

“Since the first moment, I craved your touch.” The prince’s words were but a breathless gasp, whispered into their kiss that was broken apart by teasing fingers yet again. Jaehyun’s fingers, clawed into the wooden floorboards, were robbed of their support as it was upon the older to turn them around. 

Lying on his back, feeling pillowy lips travel lower, Jaehyun couldn’t help but let his head fall backwards, sight bleary as he turned his eyes to the ceiling, fading to black the moment after. With a low moan he arched his neck, offered more of his skin to Johnny’s curious mouth, to kisses being placed along his jugular artery, the little bites and nips, tongue leaving wet trails of saliva. 

All he had known before had been a quick in and out, men preparing him or leaving such task to him depending on their wants and money, pressing him into the sheets as they seeked their high selfishly. Some had been kind enough to make sure he’d come too, a certain handful had not. Similarly none of them had taken their time for real, so very different to Johnny, hands and lips on a voyage, leaving trails of fire along his skin.

One particularly harsh bite against the curve of his collarbone had Jaehyun buck upwards, hips roughly jerking against Johnny’s who must have felt it too. The older collapsed atop of him, breath heavy and ragged, collecting moist against the younger’s skin. Rather roughly Jaehyun curled his fingers into the prince’s brown locks, pulling him up for another greedy kiss, more teeth than tongue, a mess of movements and drool that left his mind as scrambled as he felt his guts were, messed up with the arousal curling up low in his groins. 

The clothes felt stuffy on their skin but he didn’t want to break apart to get rid of them now, didn’t care that there were layers of cotton, silk and linen between them as Johnny drove him to ecstasy with the harsh rolls of his lips. It was incredible, it wasn’t even sex, was immature and animalistic rutting against each other, amplified by the roughness of fabric rubbing against the sensitive skin of his cock with every each of Johnny’s drags, and at the same time it was better than any sex he had ever yet. There was passion, greed, mutual lust for each other, and for once Jaehyun had someone to hold on to.

Tightening the grip of his arms around Johnny’s shoulder, the fighter could do little more than release little pitched whines and breathless moans into the prince’s mouth, overwhelmed by the onslaught of emotions. His guts were churning, his blood liquid lava, and the sensation of his skin burning hot would have him worrying about the similarity with his magic being worked if he were in his right mind for it. Instead, rather than proper thought, his whole self was overcome with pleasure, and especially after one special thrust of the prince.

Like the fireworks he could remember as one of the sole images before ending up in the Academy, ecstasy exploded within him, had him see stars as it tore his body apart and put it together all at once. It broke him and it edified him, had his heart racing and his brain stuttering, when all that filled his mind was the very effect Johnny had had on him.

He had come dry in his pants, a trait he knew of himself as an effect of alcohol, but he considered to be better off than the girls anyways. Intoxicated, desperate, they had admitted to being unable to reach their high, and like this he couldn’t blame them. But Johnny was still rolling his hips, forcing the fabric to rub against Jaehyun’s yet to soften dick, and on a whim he reached down to place his hand between their crotches. Palm up, he could feel the weight of the royal length, a sensation that sent an aftershock of pleasure through his body.

The prince, too, barely took another few thrusts before wet warmth was spilled, seeping through the expensive but worn fabric, reaching even Jaehyun’s skin. Out of breath, panting, Johnny collapsed on him, the whole of his weight forcing the younger down who didn’t even think to complain.

Instead, Jaehyun raised his sullied hand upwards, licked over his palm out of curiosity and intrigue alike. It was less bitter than he’d have thought, not a thought he meant to spare, neither did he miss the darkness swirling within the prince’s eyes. No finger’s width was between their faces as Johnny tried to move up, pupils dilated, cheeks flushed, lips glistening wet. Warm breath mixed with heated air, their essence mingled between them for a while as the older tried to get his bearings again. Eventually, a cloudburst in summer, lighting fast and unexpected rumble, he confessed, “I think I’m in love with you, Jaehyun…”

▁⛥⌒*ﾟ.

A gentle knock on the door woke Jaehyun in the morning, still affected by the high of alcohol and the rush of their nightly encounter, he hadn’t slept well, had dipped in and out of dreamland, barely got his toes inside the hot water that was rest. His sight was blurry, his mind felt fuzzy, as he turned his head to the door where Taeyong stood, albeit he could only recognize the witcher by his white hair alone.

“Jaehyunnie,” the mage whispered, his voice already seeming more put together than Jaehyun felt as a whole, “We need to leave. Now.” Taeyong must have seen the hand reaching out for the prince, ready to wake him too, because he said, “Without Johnny. We’re going alone.”

For the time being, Jaehyun didn’t think of questioning those words as he squirmed out of the prince’s hold and took along a set of new clothes to change in the main room. Taeyong was already waiting for him, holding out a cloak and a cup of tea alike which the younger downed, ignoring the burning going down his throat and the pain on his tongue. He didn’t question anything so far, not when he was lead out and guided to their horses, made to mount his mare and ride away, abandoning the cottage behind them.

Each and every jostle messed up his guts, sickness overcoming him after having drunk as much after a longer while, and he swallowed it down for the witcher didn’t seem to be about to go easy on him. Gallop took them forward for a while, until the drizzle let up and the sun was to be seen rising in the distance. Right in front of it the mountains rose highly, a dangerous sight, and Jaehyun finally felt like being in the right mentality to query just what they were doing out here, like this, alone.

“Taeyong!” He yelled, tried to outdo the heavy footfall of their equestrians, and be it luck or actual rumor, the witcher heard him. A hand signal told him to slow down, and it took a few seconds for them to be riding on the same height at a slower pace, but it didn’t stop the questions to race through his head, bouncing around inside his skull, “Where are we going?”

The older released a heavy sigh, and put the question off for a bit longer. Instead of words, Jaehyun received some pieces of dried meat and bread to gnaw on, wisely packed by Taeyong who finally started, “We’re heading for the sword,” and at the younger’s quering gaze added, “Alone.”

Slightly the magician slumped in his seat, brushed back white hair with a jittering hand. “Where we’re going now… These lands lie abandoned for a reason, Jaehyunnie, and I can’t protect you all as effectively as I can protect you alone. But, more importantly, I’ve held off a conversation we need to have for longer than I should have…”

Chewing the stringy meat carefully, the fighter tilted his head to look at the mage. More careful than before he took in the sight, noticed the little things he wasn’t sure he hadn’t been able to spot before or hadn’t been allowed to - the tender lines forming around golden eyes, the exhaustion of old age that sat in these metallic orbs, the trembles of hands supposed to be steady. He could nearly perceive the swirls of magic bending around the mage but that might also be on his lasting drunkenness. 

“The day you were born, a prophecy was held above your head… The Prophecy-” Taeyong took a shuddering breath, golden orbs disappearing behind ruddy eyelids. “ _ The child born to black stars - he who will steal the crown. With a blade of everlasting steel, blood of ancient ruins. Only he may save or destroy our fate. _ ”

Slowly, bit by bit, Jaehyun tried to make sense of it by taking apart the single phrases. A blade of everlasting steel, a sword promising victory. The blood of ancient ruins, the magic their world was built upon. Those phrases swirled around his mind, the truth he could no longer deny about them, it was the remains he couldn’t make any more sense of at the current time.

When he looked over, he was met by the mage’s sympathetic smile. “There is an old law to this world, Jaehyun.  _ He who overthrows the crown may rule in the dead one’s stead. _ It is by this law Johnny’s uncle has been able to acclaim the title of a king and by its same means you will be the one to rule this country next.”

The more he heard, the more Jaehyun furrowed his eyebrows. It was but… nonsense! How was he supposed to lead a kingdom he was not knowledge about? Had not the very reason of this travel been to reinstate the throne to Johnny’s hands and- Thinking of the prince, his head twisted around, looking for the royal they had abandoned miles behind.

“He does not know,” Taeyong started, releasing a shaky breath, “I didn’t tell him. Some laws, Jaehyunnie- Some rules are better to be kept a secret in our guild’s hands. And you, too, should consider well what you’re doing with this information when the time comes the council approaches you for your right.”

But Taeyong did not interfere, the younger couldn’t help but notice. Practically laughable, such was the idea of this current discussion. How had someone like him even ended up in such a situation, all he had been lured with had been the honor of his family and the wellbeing of his friends. He had heard the mention of a prophecy from both the witchers in his life before, and now he considered whether he shouldn’t have heeded them better. “The black stars…”

“They happen.” The magician frowned, pale brows handsomely pulled together. “It’s a bit hard to explain but originally… Children born at a night of black stars will not survive. Dark magic accumulates over the years and as it clouds the skies, it forbids new life to rise and asks for death’s toll too early.”

Nervously, Jaehyun licked at his lips, an ominous sense of foreboding overcoming him as he directed his eyes to the mountains once again. “But why am I…?”

“Why are you, indeed. Because you’re not normal.” A wry smile stretched apart the older’s lips, a pitying expression, it left the fighter with a hollow feeling in his heart. “Children surviving that night are cursed with too much magic, Jaehyun. If you were like Yuta or me, you might end up being the next head of council. But you aren’t, and it makes you more dangerous than you think. Nobody knows what or not you can do, there are no records of other blood magicians born under black stars. I’m not sure what you can do and I’m certain neither is Yuta, but under these circumstances I can’t resent him for wanting to protect you.” At that, Taeyong’s expression softened, he seemed younger again, as if age was fading with the rain. “You’re a good kid, Jaehyun. I wish we had met under different circumstances instead.”

“Yuta...” Jaehyun started, because the name had him perk up since his friend’s mention. The revelation of the judge’s origin had something he had allowed to get drowned out by everything else when the nagging feeling had never left him, the intrigue about where the magician had come from, why he had joined them. Part of his questions had been answered now, it seemed.

“Yuta is a good one,” Taeyong smiled, warmth of friendship bleeding into his words, “But ten years ago he disappeared without notice. We magicians might have a council but it doesn’t mean much when there’s so little of us left. Our job is not to be impartial but to keep up the old laws. So if one of us vanishes…” Weakly the magician shrugged his shoulders, droplets of water pelting off the waxed cloak.

More than ever before, Jaehyun learned about the hidden side of their world in these few minutes. At the same time, it seemed to be a lot to take in. Magic wasn’t foreign, everyone knew there were things out of humane control, and that magic wielders were rare. Some might be able to do tricks, could bend wooden spoons without breaking or change the color of their eyes but to reach the level of a magician without natural affinity - it was a matter of impossibility. Like this, it made sense they wanted to stay alone, remain among their likes and keep the secrets of this world.

Silence settled between them for a while, broken only when Taeyong advised him to eat up again, a recommendation Jaehyun heeded carefully. Rain had entirely stopped falling, and between the cracks in the clouds the sun peeked through. 

“He was a friend of your father,” the witcher suddenly started. He had gotten more comfortable in his saddle, arms folded on his horse’s neck to rest his head on, eyes directed forward to check for their directions, “Yuta, I mean. The council likes to keep track of blood magicians, and the Jeongs were Yuta’s responsibility. They spent one and a half dozen years together during which Yuta taught him everything.” Taeyong let out a heavy sigh. “I can only imagine it must have hurt him to lose your father like this…

But some things make sense now, you know?” Golden eyes deviated from their forward direction, turned to the mostly silent blue haired instead. “We all knew you existed but no one really questioned your whereabouts after the coronation. Just like I didn’t question why Yuta’s decay had picked up so suddenly…”

“Decay…?” Jaehyun repeated slowly, thinking of his mentor right then. Yuta had always seemed youthful, brightly spirit and surprisingly agile if only one ignored the crutch and- His eyes widened at the suggestions, brown orbs turned to Taeyong who only grimaced in pain.

“Magic takes a toll on all of us. Yuta’s final fate will be immobility, and the more he uses magic the faster it proceeds. That night… Your father hid you from the usurpator’s sight but someone had to keep you safe. By all means, your mother would have never abandoned you but you would protect you two then…?”

“But my mother-”

“We all have to make choices, Jaehyun,” Taeyong interrupted, golden eyes freezing over, being as warm as a coin could possibly be, “You made yours when you came with us, he made his when he decided to protect you. But whatever took place that night, I’m not the one who could possibly tell you about it. You’d need to ask Yuta.”

Jaehyun would have liked to continue this conversation, to ask for more from the magician, but when the witched sat up straight again, it seemed their conversation was over. “We’re getting near. So let me tell you one more thing, Jaehyun-”

▁⛥⌒*ﾟ.

The sword seemed unsuspecting where it rested, the blade framed by moss, overgrowing the stone it had pierced. Dropped by a changeling, falling into the slope where the Meadows met the mountains, it seemed innocent enough and yet it was eerie. Despite the raging greens, despite all the years that had passed, not a single sign of decay could be found on the steel. No rust, no dust, no dirt, no track of wet drops. Like a picture, untouched by time, it remained in its place.

It was singing, a siren’s song, a voice luring him in. No words but so much yearning, it filled his mind, made his head ready to split in two, his heart about to burst from beating so hard. Like a masochist, he yearned for more, wanted to hear it sing, wanted to be engulfed by it. Like a sailor, lured by a siren’s song, he was ready to throw himself into the raging waves and drown himself. 

His fingers curled around the handle of the sword, felt the warm and smooth leather wrapped around the handle against his palm as he closed his fingers around it, gripped it tight. Sparks shot up his arm, the electricity of Johnny’s kisses, the warmth of coming home-

He rolled over from his position on the ground, retching whatever had been trapped in his stomach and barfing it into the luscious green of the ground. Acid and bile burnt in his throat and mouth as he couldn’t stop, one wave of sickness after another, until what met the ground was tainted red.

The sword seemed unsuspecting where it rested, the blade framed by moss, overgrowing the stone it had pierced. It was placed in a little open space of the valley, where green was overgrowing. It was a striking contrast to the barren Meadows who weren’t yet flourishing, didn’t sport any of that energetic green, were but dirty brown. It was wrong. So, so wrong. Nothing should be green like this!

Screams pierced his ears, and not even covering his ears with his hands as he fell to his knees on the ground could keep it out, the shattering sound of high wailing. It shook his skull, had his brains shaking within their confined, had blood seeping against his hands when his eardrums burst.

Blood on his hands.

His fingers caressed the leather wrapped around the metal, warm and smooth against his palm. Like a knife slicing warmed up butter, he could pull the weapon out of its jail. Like the rush of pleasure he had been gifted by Johnny last night, heat raced up his arm, unfurled within his body. The sword perfectly fit into his hand.

Blood on the ground, and he was still retching.

His heart beat in excitement as he looked at the sword, blade framed by moss, overgrowing the stone it had pierced. It was home, it was comfort and warmth, it was Wendy’s embrace when he had been a kid and tortured by nightmares he could no longer remember. It was Sicheng petting his shoulder after yet another win, the pride shared only between the bestest friends. It was waking up in Johnny’s arms early in the morning.

Screams shattered his ears.

He retched.

His fingers curled around the leather binding the sword.

His heart raced.

His eardrums burst.

His head was bursting from the force of the screams filling his mind.

He could see the sword.

Johnny filled his mind. 

▁⛥⌒*ﾟ.

When he opened his eyes, it was dark. Above him, far up in the skies, a few bold stars twinkled and winked at him. Wet ran into his hair from what he presumed was a soaked cloth placed on his forehead to lower his temperature that was already burning up hot. 

A slow examination of his body helped him realize he was still alright, he could wriggle his toes, shake his thighs, he could raise his hands and- With a start, he sat up, the wet cloth falling into his lap, and his eyes settled on the sword he was holding on to. Like this, freed from the stone, it looked more impressive, was easily as long as the whole of his leg, meaning it’d drag on the ground if he didn’t carry it properly.

Beneath his palm, like a heartbeat, he could feel magic pulsing through it, little ripples of warmth. The blade shone beautifully, had a glow to it that couldn’t be borne from outside illuminations only, but it felt like it belonged there, into his hand. 

“You’re beautiful,” he couldn’t help but matter as he raised the sword and placed it over his thighs, tracing the gouge in the middle, the fine cravings in its curve. It was a language he couldn’t read but the words flowed into his mind regardless, their very meaning.  _ May you who holds this sword never lose. May you who wields this blade pay every price to win. May you who swings me never die. _

The writings that must have once been silver as was the weapon itself were now distorted by red, dark crimson soaked into his furrows, and he knew - Jaehyun just simply knew - it was his father’s essence that had marred this blade. What a cruel reminder it was, the weapon that had pierced his father’s heart was now the only sembrance he had.

Behind closed lids, he could see it, and despite the ice cold dread it caused him, he allowed the vision to wash over him. The images of the grand hall with a fire burning in its midst, too many candles to count lit all over the room but there was but one person. A man with midnight blue hair, cascading down his back in long waves. A hawk in the corner of the room, screeching in anguish.

The flames shot up at a single drop of blood, then another, and more. A red trickle dropped into their midst, as the man chanted and prayed, “May this kingdom flourish, may this crown succeed. May those under it obey and may the lithic throne stand still. May the ruler last, may the king not perish. May victorious songs hail all throughout its la-”

Words interrupted, a gargle, spit blood. The blade had pierced the man’s chest from behind, a cowardice move. Stabbing an innocent man from behind, only the lowest of scums would allow.

His vision blurred, a swirl of colors, and it realigned.

The flames flickered in front of him, blood was soaking white silk, running down his front, flowing into the fiery pit. Slender fingers, already tainted red, wrapped around the blade. Pain soared through his hands where metal cut into flesh, and the man’s whispers picked up again, “May this sword be tainted by my blood, may it belong only to me and the mine. May its powers be chained and jailed, may it only be freed by the will of my red. May you, my lovely victorious sword, belong to my line, may you obey to our command, may you never be held be their kind-”

The sword twisted, held by the new king, and as it wrenched through the man’s heart, as it messed up graceful hands, as the writing along the sword started to glow in crimson as it absorbed every river of red, the man was kicked forth for his end to be met in the flames.

Screams never released still pierced his mind as Jaehyun sat up with a start and his hands fumbled for his heart, beating strong and safe within his chest. There was no hole he was bleeding from, no blade piercing his chest, no cuts along his hands. He was still fine and well, and slowly he felt the panic subside within his mind.

What he had seen had been nothing but a vision, a reminder of what had been, and there had seldomly been a thought so clear in his mind. The one he had seen, the one who had died, had been his father, killed during an incantation in the faux king’s name. Killed from behind by a coward, in a way could never be excused. 

One spell had been too late to be undone, another could still be casted. It was just like the story he had been told - his father had used his last breath to take the strongest weapon from the usurpator’s hands, its powers sealed by a force rivaling that of a god’s, soaked with blood and life. Even in his last breath, his father had done his best, but what hurt Jaehyun most was not the fact he had felt all of his father’s pain, the pierce and the cut, the fire and the flames, it was the miserable truth of only having seen his back. The hair the same shade of midnight as was his own, the slender hands that had not been forced through frugal life, the gash along one frail lower arm. A dozen details still haunting his mind, but a face he would never once see.

At least so he had thought.

“I never thought to be able to see my son,” a warm voice called out in reverie, and Jaehyun’s eyes snapped up. On the moss overgrown stone the sword had sat at perched a man instead, dressed in flowy white silk decorated by scarlet sword lilies growing in a single hip. The uppermost blossom touched the place one’s heart sat beneath. “You’ve grown so well, Yoonoh.”

As the man approached, more and more details became visible to the younger. Yuta had been right, he was the very image of his father who had the same kind of eyes and nose as he had, the same softened jawline. Only his cheeks were a bit more defined, no dimples to be seen, yet the same whisker like lines the kids in town had marveled at were spreading from the man’s nose.

Midnight blue hair cascaded down the man’s shoulders and chest, sparkles sitting on it like little stars, eyes the same shade as Johnny’s. What would his father think of Johnny, his best friend’s son? Of Jaehyun’s friends? Would he approve or disapprove? Would he be proud or disappointed? Would he-

The man knelt down in front of him, a warm expression in his eyes, and finally Jaehyun could see the silver ring around his father’s pupils, melting into the gooey brown. It was a reminder of something but he couldn’t say what. Being in this place, seeing the man who had been robbed of his life in an attempt to protect his family, everything seemed so distant, so far away. A nameless country, a nameless town, even the memory of his friends slowly blurred away. All he knew was this place, this clearing at the foot of the mountains, his father’s warm eyes still bleeding silver.

“I wish you would not need to fulfill your destiny but I’m oh so glad to be able to see you one last time,” the man whispered, fingers cold and metallic as their back met with Jaehyun’s cheek where they carefully stroked, “I wish I had made a different choice to protect you both, Yoonoh, so make sure you do better than me, alright?”

He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t tell his father that his mother had never survived, that she had died at what must have been the night of his father’s death, too. Those words could never leave his lips which parted to let out other words instead. They never came.

The man’s hand lowered, touched against his heart, and where his finger met a clothed chest unbearable heat spread. Jaehyun, instead of words, released an agonized scream as that finger pierced linen and flash, and he couldn’t believe his eyes as flesh molt away to turn into metal sliding into his chest. Deeper, deeper, always deeper, until the hilt met his skin, and the agonizing burn never stopped. Liquid metal, it filled his veins, the sword dissolved, never pierced his back.

He wanted to pull it out, he wished it to end, but such scene never came. His body remained frozen as he looked at the weapon forced between his ribs, nestled in his chest, replacing his heart, and he was still screaming when silver curtains closed in front of his eyes.

▁⛥⌒*ﾟ.

Water splashed around him as he jerked forward his arm, dragged through the water on the lithic ground as he used his left to push himself up until he was kneeling again. The rain had picked up again, little rivulets slowly forming around the stones and rocks when they had been dry just before. Seemingly untouched by time, exactly that had caught up to it now. Cracks lined the walls and the greens were decayed, matching the scenery outside.

“Heed the demons inside,” Jaehyun whispered, repeated the words Taeyong had told him this morning, before sending him down this path of his own. The ever familiar hawk was perched on one of the boulders, looking at him with its curious yellow eyes unblinking. It reminded him of his father, of the gentle man he had been allowed to meet in his dreams, but as he turned his head, the vision was gone.

What remained was the rock split in half, cut apart as the sword had been freed, resting in front of it on the floor. It wasn’t too far from him, barely out of his reach from where he must have collapsed, but a dozen and more things he could still ask later on. For now, he just wanted to get back and join with Taeyong again who must still be waiting with the horses, at the edge of the Meadows turning rocky, getting wet from the rain.

A grunt fell from his lips as the slightest movement felt like his head getting stomped on my a giant’s foot, crashed and squeezed and infinitely bothersome. Only his body functioned at his every command, even as he wrapped his fingers around the pummel to pull the weapon closer, the careful craft of roots wrapped around stone, the bark hidden by leather darkened by moist, the crown that was growing into the hilt of the sword. A sword carved by magic but nature was the source of all its strength. It was beautiful if it wasn’t so tragically cruel.

Using the metal as support, he got onto his feet, knees buckling from the strain of using his legs after so long. The hawk screeched, flapping its wings animatedly, as if to encourage him to go on already, and Jaehyun shot it a look. “I’m coming, I’m coming… Don’t lose your feathers over me.”

When the hawk made some clicking noise in disapprovement, Jaehyun couldn’t help but grin. Taeyong’s magic felt like sand in an hourglass, it was there and visible but it would always get away. Communication with animals, a powerful skill, but it was hard to tell which animals were controlled or not by the mage. Either he was currently communicating with the witcher or just another lunatic, and after all the things that had replayed in his mind just moments ago, he wouldn’t put it past himself to still be in a daze from those sights. 

He still felt like it, like he was in a daze, as he couldn’t tell what was real and what wasn’t. A sword that wouldn’t allow its owner to die, he might as well have already bled out and been healed again, but he might have just dreamt it, too. He could have thrown up or kept his food down his throat, he only knew his stomach was sore from the need to be filled. He could have had his eardrums torn and the blood washed away by the rain. So many coulds and he was not able to tell them apart.

Only one thing he was certain of, and that was that the scene he had seen of his father’s death had been real, that the sword had shown him the reason he was allowed to hold it, why he had been granted permission to, and what holding it would entail. Inevitable death would fall upon those who encountered this blade, a dozen hundred and more souls consumed by a fight Jaehyun could no longer stop. But he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to.

His mind was foggy, his vision was blurred, he wanted revenge, take it on the man who had spilled his own blood, wanted to claim the faux king’s head who had ruined his life. A funny thing, he considered fate, the path of this sword. Because he would have still met all these people, would have met Johnny and Donghyuck and Taeil and Taeyong, should have met Yuta and Ten, and maybe he would have encountered the people from his home as well. Without a sword in his hands, without bloodlust on his tongue, it would have been different yet the same.

The walk down the path he had earlier climbed felt too long, like time was stretched thin like strudel dough, worn and worn and worn, stretched over knuckles until it was translucent, revealing all the stuffing inside. He had never understood how that worked, how someone could do a thing like that, stretch dough, kill another person, bend the flow of time.

He faltered in his steps, tripped over a stone, and his vision flickered dark for a moment. His hand was warm, connected to the sword, and the hawk’s wings fluttering above him seemed like a distant echo of reality. He shook his head to get rid of the daze swallowing up his mind and waved the bird away with his free hand, there was no reason to get worried now. It was just a short bout of dizziness.

Maybe he really had thrown up earlier, emptied his stomach barely holding any food, and the alcohol of the previous night still affecting him, meaning the fatigue was getting to him. Every step he took seemed to be more strenuous, something he couldn’t explain otherwise, other than the hunger working to his advantage. Couldn’t explain this need for more differently, this craving for… for something.

He couldn’t explain it, couldn’t name it, couldn’t put his finger on it. All he could feel was the angry rumbling of his stomach, the pulsating warmth of the sword in his hand, could sense the tilts of the stones he was walking on. If only he could already reach the place he had left behind Taeyong, get closer to his friend and leave behind this mind numbing state of whatever it was. He just wanted to-

“Jaehyun,” a voice pulled him out of the mist clouding his mind, like that time he had fallen off a boat and Sicheng had pulled him out, dispelling the haze of his mind. The hawk fluttered its wings in upset, and like lighting hitting a tree, tearing apart, reality came back to his mind. His eyes traced down, to the hands holding on to his wrist, to the sword in his hand, connecting to Taeyong’s guts, silver against red, dripping down. 

“Jaehyun… Let go, come on,” the mage beckoned, gently, as he guided the younger to pull back the sword until alive matter was parted from dead metal. How funny, it was Taeyong who had been stabbed by his very hands, and yet Jaehyun could see the silver curtain fall to shut him out from the world yet again. 

▁⛥⌒*ﾟ.

Muffled voices reached his ear as he turned around in bed, sinking into the softness of hay covered by fur, cushioning his weight, feeling so very comfortable. It was such contrast to the cold stones of the mountains, wet weather replaced by dry warmth of being inside. It faintly smelled of Johnny, too, and he shouldn’t take so much comfort from that thought, shouldn’t bury his face further into the pillow to find solace.

He did, and the more he did, the more aware he became of the lack of the prince’s presence next to him, which was so highly unusual when it was normally him to wake up first. Without the weight of Johnny’s arm wrapped around his waist and warmth pressed to his back it was harder to fall back into sleep. Albeit it wasn’t sleep to begin with, he had passed out from the sight of stabbing Taeyong and-

With a start, he clambered out of bed, tripping over blankets tangling up his leg as he rushed out of the bedroom and into the main one. “Taeyong!” He called, eyebrows furrowed, cold dread dripping down his spine, his sight still bleary as he dried to adjust from the dark of their room to the brightness of the fire illuminating this one. “He-”

“Jaehyun,” a voice interrupted, one that sounded suspiciously much like Taeyong, coming from a person looking too much like Taeyong, currently sat on the ground near the fireplace, upper garments removed and revealing the ruddy skin covered in a green paste. The wound he had suffered, not deadly, not ending the mage, and the younger fell to his knees in relief. “I’m sorry. I should have known better.”

Fingers caressed along the fighter’s sides, stroked his skin affectionately, pulled him into an embrace, but as he looked around the room, everyone was there. A phantom of a hug and yet it was so vivid, was colliding against another body as he was pulled back, was a gentle voice whispering, “He did tell you, did he not? He told you to heed the demons inside. But he never explained what these demons are, did he?”

A digit traced along his jaw, tilted his head back by lifting up his chin. “These demons, sweet little boy, are not mine. They are yours. You yearned for blood, and blood you got. You were lusting for it, hungry, and I fed you, did I not?”

“-hyun!” Warm fingers - real fingers - pressed against his cheek, the phantom faded, and all he was greeted by were Johnny’s eyes swamped with worry and warmth. “Hey, big one. Are you okay?”

Hastily, Jaehyun blinked, as if that could possibly help him get rid of the ghost of the sword he had awoken himself. “Yeah… Yeah, yeah, I am,” he muttered, and shortly shook his head to get rid of the fog still cloying his mind, “What- How did we…?”

“I can’t fight like you,” the witcher answered, eyes glowing in the reflection of the fire, “but I’m not powerless. Stopping a wound from bleeding and getting you on a horse is the least I could do, don’t you think so?” Taeyong’s smile was encompassing, the gesture inviting as he waved the younger closer, “Come on, Johnny made dinner. You should eat while we have a talk.”

With the royal taking his wrist, Jaehyun had little choice but to accept, pulled to his feet and lead into the oldest’s vicinity to take a seat. A warm bowl of food and a steaming cup of tea were placed in his hand and in front of him alike, and it seemed like a comedic repeat of their morningly conversation when Taeyong advised him to eat yet again. 

Magic and the sword, a magical sword, they must have drained him more than he had priorly thought, and only at the first bite of stew did he realize just how hungry he had been. He gulped it down before the witcher could as much as start his lecture, and Hyuck handed him a second bowl right after he had finished the first. Johnny had settled next to him, warm hand comforting on his thigh, and while golden eyes darted downwards, no one commented on it. 

“Every power comes with a price, Jaehyunnie.” A wry smile made its way onto Taeyong’s face as he watched them, the two inheritors of this story, the ones who had to clean up the mess that had started with their fathers, and a faux king’s greed. “To control it, we need to strengthen our minds until they can no longer overtake us. A sword - a weapon - it calls for blood. It was my fault, I thought you’d be ready for it after all these years with Yuta but it seems-”

“I saw my father,” the fighter interrupted, quiet, and he was surprised Taeyong had even heard him but for someone who had seen the witcher interacting with animals on the daily he shouldn’t be surprised about whose heightened senses. One pale eyebrow raised, and Jaehyun averted his eyes downwards, into his steaming tea. “And the moment of his death. I couldn’t…”

“Anguish. Despair. Fear. Greed. Lust.” Golden eyes hardened, and old age suddenly seemed so palpable within them again. “They’re clouding our senses and our mind. You must not give in to them, Jaehyunnie, or it won’t be just my blood you’ll spill. Eventually, getting controlled by the sword will be but your own downfall.”

“Taeyong!” Johnny interrupted, fingers reassuringly curling into the younger’s thigh, handsome face drawn into a furrow. Not all they had said had been perceived by the prince, so much Jaehyun was certain of, so the defense surprised him.

“No,” he insisted without prior thought, and looking over at the older it took him a few seconds to form the words in his mind, allow them to roll over his tongue, “He’s right.”  _ Pay every price to win. _ “I tried to kill Taeyong today because all I could think of was your uncle. Who knows what will happen next…”

Opposite them, the magician smiled in a way he knew from Yuta, pride swirling in golden eyes, not unlike what he had seen in a father’s eyes when their sons were growing up well. “You can do it. Once you work through this, there is nothing that can stop you, Jaehyun. And neither you, Youngho. You just gotta work it out first.”

“Alright, alright, you cheesy old men,” Donghyuck called in from the side, clearly bored from whatever game he had played with Taeil throughout the time of their talk. “The real question still remains - where is that sword anyways?”

Jaehyun’s eyes widened in surprise as he looked at the kid at the other end of the room. He hadn’t questioned it before, the whereabouts of the sword, but it must be around, after all he had stopped the witcher with it. The very man who was now snickering in delight, before one magic directing hand was directed at the weapon’s very owner. “He has it.”

“I do?” His eyes nearly bulged out as he looked at the magician. A thing of that side can’t possibly be hidden somewhere, gone without notice, yet it could not be fair either, not when he had felt the phantom of its ghost just minutes ago. 

Anyhow, the only response he received was a smile and a shrug of shoulders as Taeyong leaned back on his hands, abdominal muscles flexing and green salve shifting with the movement. Seeing it had Jaehyun’s heart stutter in guilt. “You do.”

No explanation followed for moments, there was only Donghyuck whining about wanting to see, and Johnny’s hand still soothingly rubbing along his thigh. Taeyong’s golden eyes remained attentive but an equally golden tongue remained mute. Gold, gold, so much gold when there was only silver wrapped around his wrist. 

▁⛥⌒*ﾟ.

Slowly, he blinked his eyes as he looked down at his chest, at the sword protruding from right next to his sternum, scarlet rivulets slowly dripping down the silver surface, tracing the furrow with its delicate carving.  _ May you who swings me… _ But it hadn’t been his father who had wielded the sword piercing his chest, and as he saw that same thing again, this scene, felt the heat of the flames in front of him, the fingers curling around his shoulder, the malicious spirit at his back, he couldn’t help wonder whether his father hadn’t done this world a kind deed.

The hands stuck to the body that wasn’t his moved up again, without him being able to stop them of his own. He couldn’t do anything as he felt the echo of his father’s pain, the burning sensation when metal cut through flesh, to the point he feared he felt bone. He wouldn’t be surprised, being close to death, people would commit to the craziest of things. His lips moved, he could feel his facial muscles tag along, but no word reached his ears. Only the flickering fire, every spark resounding so loud, the wet squelch of the sword pulling out as the searing pain on his hands increased. Felt the hand push him forward into the flickering red-

His back collided with carved wood roughly, and it took him a second to to garner his senses. Leather, warm against his palm. Wood, cold against his spine. Skin, bare where their legs had tangled underneath the blanket. 

Jaehyun’s eyes widened as they fell on Johnny’s frame, sitting up in bed and holding one hand to his neck but it wasn’t enough, didn’t entirely stop the droplets of red running down his throat, collecting at the clavicles, tracing his sternum. Drop by drop, bit by bit.

Warmth pulsated against his hand and the daze crept up on his mind again, as gentle fingers wrapped around his wrist to motivate him to raise the sword again. The sword he hadn’t seen since hours, now resting in his hand, and its blade covered in a slender film of red. Two or three inches of the edge had taken a liking to liquid ruby, didn’t allow it to move as he could feel the phantom of the sword thrum in excitement at its second lick of blood.

“Johnny-” He whispered, helplessly, because he didn’t need what to do when his head already felt like cotton, his tongue numb from a single word. Like a wave crashing down upon him, he could sense how the sword’s ghost seemed to roar in agitation, upset with being neglected, pushed away for their prey. 

There was confusion in the prince’s eyes but it seemed so far away, out of his reach, as his vision clouded over again. It was like looking through organza, everything was a shade of its real self, distorted by the shimmer of silver blearing his sight. He could still somewhat make out Johnny, but the moment the prince moved, so did Jaehyun. 

The sword’s ghost seemed to burst his skull, a wailing he couldn’t hear, only feel, as the blade called for blood - Johnny’s blood. But it wasn’t like Jaehyun wanted to fight, he didn’t want to battle even when his weapon called for victory, a weapon he couldn’t recall picking up in first place, yet here they were. 

Wounded, the prince had done better at waking up, had already thrown Jaehyun to the bed and tackled him down, hand with the sword hanging over the edge. It was hard to hold on to it like that, albeit the weapon itself didn’t seem to be willing to let go of him, didn’t want to be left alone, forsaken for a human and deprived of warmth for years to-

With a startled noise, his fingers uncurled to let the metal clatter on the floor, surely leaving scratches in the wooden floorboards, as the warmth was slowly drained from his skin, leaving through his fingertips, as if it were more palpable than a sensation. But the fog in his mind had cleared, and above him, Johnny’s eyes were filled with worry and wariness alike. “I’m sorry,” Jaehyun whispered, eager to replace the weapon in his hand with royal skin, hand trailing along the prince’s side, wrapping around the taller’s waist to pull him down into an embrace. Like this, he could hide his face in the other’s shoulder, incessant mutters leaving his lips, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

Fight gone from the younger’s mind, it was easier for Johnny, too, to accept their proximity, to let the boy in again and offer the comfort they both seemed to need. It was easy, to settle down like this, for Jaehyun to just rest his head on the older’s chest as he allowed the moments to replay in his mind, again and again, as he tried to make sense of them. He could still sense it, the sword’s whereabouts, the ghost of fingers interlacing with his as he drew little patterns atop the prince’s.

Like they had, silence settled between them, the fighter’s apologies had faded out as the prince had caressed through midnight blue hair and it felt off, a room tainted a tad too yellow at night, to interrupt their quiet when it was yet important. Taking a deeper breath, Jaehyun tried to prepare his own words, and he could tangibly feel Johnny’s attention shift to him even before he spoke up, “It’s jealous of you… The sword… And- And my father was there again, in my dreams, so she must have just-”

Fighting, he considered, was definitely easier than trying to explain, but as he could sense the excitement within cold steel, he highly doubted it was the smartest thing to think about now. Quickly, he pushed the memories aside, instead turned his eyes upwards to look at Johnny. 

Contrary to his beliefs, the prince looked awfully close to being amused, little smile playing around full lips as one eyebrow went up. “She? She is jealous of me?”

Phrased like this, it did sound more than just odd, and Jaehyun wrinkled his nose shortly. “It’s just because I keep thinking of you and-” At that, both of Johnny’s eyebrows shot up, and the younger felt the embarrassment sneak up on him again, the heat rising to his ears. “She’s just a weapon! I was afraid and a sword is meant to defend, it’s not my fault you’re the one who insists to share a bed with me…”

“Oh?” Teasing glint in the older’s eyes, it took but a second for Jaehyun to find himself on his back, looking up at the prince. With an expression like the current one, calling for attention and obedience at once. Not like obedience was Jaehyun’s strength, not if it was for matters he could not agree with but Johnny, looking as he did right now, it seemed like a very agreeable matter. The sword pulsated in repulsion. “I didn’t hear you protest so far, did I?”

Because the younger hadn’t, neither had he thought of it before nor did he currently, and even if he had, he was certain those thoughts would have easily left him with the way Johnny was parting his legs with his own to settle between Jaehyun’s thighs. Heat, barely contained through the flimsy fabric, spread from their every point of contact, not lessening by the time the older had lowered onto his elbow, warm breath colliding against the fighter’s lips.

Shakily, Jaehyun inhaled air, willed the oxygen to remain in his lungs for longer than a meager second. His body was reacting, the rush of adrenaline had him feeling sensitive, all too aware of the arm Johnny had wrapped around his waist as they rolled around, now raising his back off the furs. The pulses of magic he still perceived from  _ her _ were clouding his mind. “I’m not,” he whispered, his own hands moving around, one along the furry surface until he could entangle his fingers with Johnny’s, the other to grab the older by the neck and pull him in.

Their kiss was lazy, at first, two mouths meeting languidly, not yet knowing what to expect of this. How could they, when they hadn’t talked about anything so far, and at the same time Jaehyun didn’t want to ruin anything by overtalking either. There were better things to put his mouth at work for, and when another heated pulse of jealousy made his heart skip a beat, he couldn’t help himself releasing a startled gasp.

Johnny, instantaneously, went for it, slipped his tongue past Jaehyun’s lip to claim his mouth as royal property, and who was Jaehyun to deny this? With a petulant huff, he collected more and more finely woven cotton in his hand, until his fingers brushed bare skin instead, allowing him to explore the expanse of Johnny’s back without restrain this time now. Digits tracing along the little dips of shoulder muscles, the valley of his spine, he could even sense little dimple-like carvings at the low of the older’s back. 

It was thrilling, in a different kind of way than all he had experienced before. This, once more, was no monetary matter, and while it would be so easy to get the royal off himself, throw Johnny across the bed and beat him in a match, all the more so with a sword promising victory to any and all, there was something exhilarating about knowing he was just keeping on the low willingly for the moment. Like a snaw flattened to the ground, ready to rush forth and bite, spread venom through its victim’s frame with a single bite, Jaehyun, too, knew he could easily end it again and again. Yet, he did not.

On the contrary, he allowed Johnny to kiss him silly, to grind his hips against their match, and encouraged it by pulling the taller closer, scratching against golden skin with his nails, following the lines of muscles. Heat was collecting between the two of them, was pooling low in his guts, and his sword was still thrumming in upset but even a magical weapon was useless without a handler to lead it. 

When their lips parted, he allowed his head to fall back, offered himself up to Johnny kissing along his jaw, over to his heated ears to whisper, “You’re so beautiful, Jaehyun… So beautiful like this…” It had the fighter shuddering, something that couldn’t possibly go by unnoticed by the prince, too, albeit it was not commented on. Rather, with his lips going down, kissing along traces of marks that had lasted from the previous night, and his hand going up, bunching the fabric of Jaehyun’s flimsier linen as well, with fingers tracing against the lines of carved abs, there were better ways to express his intentions and wants.

“Fuck…” The younger cursed, eyes fluttering shut as he felt the prince move away for a short moment. When he opened them again, Johnny was hovering above him, upper body on display, clothing discarded to wherever, and barely so illuminated by the moonlight coming in through their window. If only, Jaehyun wished, there was more light to see better, to take in all of the beauty presented upon him.

“Such a foul mouth,” the prince commented, amusement audible, “I bet it can sound way sweeter, don’t you think so?” And before the owner of such rotten tongue could agree nor deny, the air was more or less punched out of him. His shirt had been rumpled up more than he had thought, exposing more of his body than he had the mental ability to process, so when Johnny had pressed a tender kiss to his chest, next to his nipple, he couldn’t help feeling breathless. 

Just how sensitive he could be, he had never known, but as the older kept kissing around his areola, tugging at his nipple, sucking and licking, Jaehyun thought himself to go crazy in a matter of minutes. That the other side was teased relentlessly in a similar manner by tender fingers didn’t aid him in any way, on the contrary, it only drove him all the more insane. Heavy gasps, broken moans, those noises slipped his lips in between his heavy breaths, merely taking in how much he was toyed with was already sufficient to overwork his mind as he stared at the ceiling with bleary eyes. Phantom hands caressed his forehead, down to his cheeks, prior guiding him into closing his eyes, to welcome the silver shine behind his lids. 

“John-” He moaned brokenly, as said man jostled his hips, hitched them up a bit until they were supported by stronger thighs, his legs falling open around Johnny’s waist. The movement had made their crotches meet, and only now did he become aware of the way his trousers were already straining, the way his nipples were already sore and wet from all the teasing he experienced. “Please, John-”

“I knew you could do better, Jaehyun,” the prince commented, tongue flicking against the hardened bud, “Should I reward you then?” Thrilling. Exhilarating. The way a thousand peasants would give their houses and daughters for a praise from the royal but it was Jaehyun, so shortly after having threatened the royal’s life, after having kicked the prince more often than should be, to receive such offer. It got to his head, clouded his mind, to think he had this kingdom’s future king following at the beckon of his hand, with a simple plea-

“Just… do it!” The younger strained to reply, whatever it was he would receive, he just wanted - needed more. More than getting his chest abused, more than fingers dancing along his abdominal muscles. He nearly moaned when Johnny’s bigger hand approached his crotch, danced along the short hair at the low of his stomach, only for them to detour and swerve somewhere else.

This time, he did release the noise from the back of his throat, the whine to complain about the lack of attention he received. It got stuck in his throat all too soon, lodged there like a lump, and made breathing hard as he felt those same fingers sneak into his pants from behind and squeezing at his bare ass. Regardless, it did not mean he was freed from his earlier torture, and he felt like being thrown into the fiery pits of hell once again when Johnny’s mouth went back to abusing his chest, attacking his dry nipple now, while those same digits pulled his cheeks to the side.

Still confined by his trousers, he felt it all too well, how fingers moved between his cheeks to caress his hole, a bit further up, only to press into his perineum. His back arched and he choked on a moan, feeling his sweet spot caressed from the outside, as he offered himself up to Johnny more by arching his back, pressing up against the older’s mouth.

More than he saw, he felt the prince grinning into his skin, licking over his nipple again, before switching sides once more. Like that, the second hand could return to its earlier task once more, teasing around his ruddy areola in the same way as that slick muscle did, while one digit rubbed against his rim dry. An onslaught of sensations, all meant to send him to the peaks of pleasure and they did, too soon, too fast, all it took was Johnny to slip his finger in to the first knuckle and Jaehyun was screaming against his own arm, teeth digging into his flesh, muffling his sounds.

Were he any lesser in his confidence, he would feel embarrassed about coming so quickly, teased like a virgin, but his body felt like a bowstring pulled tight even when he had long stopped releasing into his pants. Undoubtedly, it was the most orgasm he had ever had, his body was still shaking, thighs still quivering, and Johnny, such royal asshole, was still licking at his nipple, making sure the younger remained sensitive.

“No- No more,” Jaehyun protested weakly, not certain whether it was because he could think again or because he felt it was torturous overstimulation at this point. He only knew that Johnny’s hair was awfully soft around his fingers, alluring to the touch, telling him to go on. Only his body contradicted him, told him to push the royal away to finally allow pleasure to ebb out of him, to let him reach his calm after this mind blowing orgasm. 

For a change, it was the older whining in protest upon being pulled away, and quite as easy he was to shut up as Jaehyun pulled him up for a kiss. It still held quite the bite, held all off Johnny’s withheld arousal, and while entirely too exhausted, the younger knew this was a favor he better repay. 

Shifting his body seemed strenuous, entirely too hard, but he needed to get away from the older’s hips, prevent Johnny from rutting into him in lower instinct, but he also just craved to get rid of his soiled pants. Floundering his legs, twisting his waist, all without breaking their kiss, was a task he did not want a repeat off, although he eventually managed to succeed, fabric carelessly thrown aside, landing wherever in the room. 

Right after, he allowed his hands to settle on Johnny’s body, explore the front he had found harder to access earlier, the ridges covering the older’s ribs, the chiseled pectorals, perfectly carved abdominals. It was the kind of body any of them at the Academy would have craved for, the kind of body a lot of them had already achieved, the strength to overthrow the opponent, to defend those who one treasured. The appeal of a challenge, a rival and protector alike, someone to hide behind, someone to tease. Attraction ran deep, and so did his hand, as he cupped the prince’s arousal through his pants.

“C’mon,” he whispered into their kiss, all the get go Johnny apparently needed, before rolling his hips downwards with a force that was nothing short of mind numbing. Working his pelvis, straining his muscles, Johnny’s intensity made it hard for Jaehyun to even keep his hand in position, it had his thoughts running wild near instantly, of all the things those same hips could still do.

All his life, he had been on the receiving end in these situations, and it wasn’t a feeling he would refuse, and yet, with Johnny moving his body like this, the imitation alone had his body heating up in interest again, had his weapon send one explosion of heat through his body as last retort before its thrumming slipped his mind entirely. The fog lifted from his mind, focus derailing, until there was nothing left but Johnny, Johnny, Johnny only.

Just pleasing someone else, offering nothing more but his hand, his fingers squeezing irregularly, hindered slightly by fabric, he had never felt as interested with anyone before. A Johnny phenomenon only, a sensation only to be caused by royal blood, belonging to the man who was kissing him more tongue than lips. It had been this moment Jaehyun had waited for, this chance to attack, be the viper striking from its hole.

“Sit up,” he demanded, pushing with his free hand at the older’s chest who reluctantly pulled away. His hand remained connected with Johnny’s clothed cock, buying Jaehyun the few seconds he needed to adjust position himself, until he was able to look up at the prince with dark eyes, “And enjoy.”

Shortly, he licked his lips before he leaned in, his fingers had already successfully freed the royal’s dick, exposed it to the free air and allowing him to close his lips around the tip. Immediately, the older grunted, hands flying up but finding nowhere to settle, fingers clutching around air, it was the greatest signal of victory Jaehyun could possibly perceive, and it made him smile somewhat. Similarly, it made him more eager to please, to curl his tongue around the tip, lick away at bittersweet droplets of precum.

Not unlike his own orgasm earlier, he could feel Johnny’s dick twitching in his hold rather soon, the pent up tension of the recent weeks making them sensitive to such exposure. Craving to do better, to repay the favor properly, Jaehyun went far as down as he could, until he could feel the blunt tip hit the back of his mouth, triggering a gag if he went further, and he repeated the same motion several times. In the same rhythm, he moved his hand along Johnny’s length, squeezing his fingers in a pattern he realized had the older’s breath hitching. 

By the time the prince had gotten out of his frozen position, got his fingers curling into Jaehyun’s hair to pull him back, the younger knew he had won. Unwilling to pull off, not until he had succeeded in driving Johnny as crazy as Johnny had driven him, he did the opposite, rubbed his tongue along the heated skin, listened to the prince groan in pleasure, felt those same digits yank at his head. It was then he felt it all, could taste Johnny’s release on his tongue which he swallowed down neatly, moving only his hand until everything was out, satisfaction rolling off the other in gentle waves. 

They were both breathless but Jaehyun could feel Johnny’s dick soften in his hold so he freed his lips, allowed his head to drop down onto the other’s thigh as he tried to gather his thoughts first. At least, on the brighter side, the prince seemed to fare as badly as he did, fingers shaky as they played with his midnight hair, yet, in typical Johnny fashion, the older joked, “I should get your sword jealous more often if it ends like this.”

Weakly, entirely drained of energy now, the fighter slapped at the other’s hips before pulling off. Feeling stuffy in his shirt, he took that one, too, off and threw it aside, before he crawled back underneath the blankets, pulled up over his head. “Be quiet, pervert,” he mumbled, listening cautiously to all the noises around. Each and every shift of the older’s weight was sensed thanks to the wavering furs, but when the prince settled behind him, crept under the blanket and pulled him into a loose embrace, Jaehyun didn’t protest.

The older, it seemed, had kept on his pants only, bare chest to bare back, and this time the warmth didn’t seem oppressive, not intimidating, not like too much. It was soothing and gentle, and still drowsy from his orgasm, it helped Jaehyun fall asleep faster then he normally did. 

▁⛥⌒*ﾟ.

To take a break from the strenuous journey, to allow not only Taeyong but also Johnny to heal from their wounds, they had decided to stay another day at the cottage. Which also meant there was no distraction for Jaehyun anymore as he looked at the sword that had still lain on the ground, abandoned, upon waking up in the morning. With as much sleep as he had gotten the prior day, he had just grabbed the weapon and gone outside, standing in the drizzling rain as he plunged the blade into the soil before crouching down. 

Undoubtedly, it was a beautiful weapon, perfectly polished steel, fine and delicate carvings, the way it was radiating power even stuck within farming fields. He could still sense it, the warmth pulsating from it, the kind that had been lacking as he had pulled it out of the stone that day. Then, it had just been cold steel, lifeless, but magic was a funny thing - suddenly, he couldn’t help referring his sword as a female, couldn’t evade the trace of fingertips caressing his shoulders, his chest. Less than a lover’s touch, different than a humane caress, more than a weapon should be. Undoubtedly, the amount of magic stored within this single blade had crafted its own personality.

Still, he felt stupid as he parted his lips to start conversation, no sane person would start talking with their weapon, of all things holy. Coo at dogs, swear at plants, moo at cows - those felt more natural to do than getting his tongue rolling for a weapon that had just threatened the man he shared a bed with hours ago. Thinking of Johnny, though-

He startled, slightly, feeling the upset radiate from the sword intensely, and this time he couldn’t help grinning as he looked at it, at least now he had somewhere to start from. “You don’t like him?” Silence. “Are you aware that he’s the one who asked me to fetch you so I get a chance at revenge for my father?” It was somewhat of an inaccurate phrasing, though. Originally he had joined their party to learn more about himself, about the origin he had not been allowed to have, to get his friends a better life, but now he could no longer say it was only about that. Not when the weapon itself had opened the gates to his darker feelings, the urge to hurt, to take vengeance.

“ _ Heed the demons inside _ ,” Taeyong’s voice echoed through his mind, “ _ Every magic has its price. _ ” But Jaehyun had never asked what the price for his own magic was, what the price for her magic was, as he looked at the weapon carefully. These powers were an odd thing, like water in his hands they were elusive, they were there and tangible, at the same time, they seemed to disappear from his touch too quick, too fast. 

As the witcher had said, it was his own mentality this weapon relied on, yet, at the same time, it was lusting for blood, yearning to be used as it was its intent, not to be stuck in a stone for nearly two decades, waiting to be held, waiting to be swung. It was no wonder she resonated well with him, too, with his slumbering magic. And at the same time, it was a double-edged sword indeed. She influenced him but he encouraged her, her lingering memories of his father’s death but fueled his lesser desires, and his call for revenge empowered her. He sighed.

“How about this,” he started as he gazed at her, took in the silver glinting in the rain, the way her beauty could not be marred by the weather, the leather slowly getting darker from the moist, “You stop attacking my friends, and I won’t just abandon you here again?” Lightly, he raised his eyebrow, waiting for a response that didn’t come for minutes so he released his held breath. “Look, I need you but I’m also the only one who can-”  _ handle you _ .

“Jaehyun!” Taeil’s voice interrupted him, the older standing at the entrance of the cottage, calling for his attention yards away. It wasn’t the best moment to startle him, neither could the younger protest when a cloud of worry seemed to surround the prince’s advisor. “Breakfast is ready!”

“I’m coming!” Jaehyun yelled back, loud as he could, before he turned back to his sword. Blinking the tears out of his face, he inspected her again, looked for any sort of response from her. “You are cursed,” he started, fumbling for a name as he took in their surroundings, trying to find a fitting nickname, “Bom - is Bom alright with you? - and I am the only one who can use you, so do you really want to upset me? The day you hurt them again, I won’t hesitate to drop you once and for all and-”

Without prompting, the weapon fell over, losing support in the wet soil, and it might look like a coincidence if it didn’t knock against his knee of all places. It remained there, and the gentle caresses returned, tracing the line of hickeys painted upon his neck, expressing their misfavor towards them quietly. The answer he was looking for, though, came not in a direct way, were no words echoing inside his mind, no digits guiding him to pick her up. It came in her dissolving as he tried to adjust her position, and for the first time since he had picked up the sword, he could also see its morphe.

As if it was placed in a furnace, the silver started to melt, and instead of dripping down it trickled upwards, like a snake it curled around his lower arm, again and again, until it was wrapped around his limb like an arm guard, an elusive accessory, glinting prettily in the dim morning light. 

“I take that as a yes,” he mumbled, allowing his fingers to graze along her smooth surface, before he attempted a little smile, “Bom.” It fit her, the sword he found in spring, the sword he was destined to be with. The sword that was his.

“Jaehyun!” Donghyuck’s voice resounded, louder than Taeil’s, more whiny, surely the younger was upset about not yet being allowed to eat.

“Coming,” he yelled back, his eyes still on her morphed figure, before he lowered his sleeve to cover her up perfectly. He didn’t exactly need all of them to know just where she remained at now. 

▁⛥⌒*ﾟ.

The days they spent back in the saddle were strenuous, and it didn’t help that Jaehyun didn’t have much of a clue as to what their plans were exactly. All he had been told so far was that they’d had back to the capital for now, meaning they were heading for the country’s center, connected to the river mounting into the sea at port town, neglected because it wasn’t grand enough a city to rival the almighty throne’s place. In contrast, the current moment was quite relaxing, the water flowing around his feet soothing as he stepped into the river.

“That’s not exactly what we’re here for, is it?” Johnny laughed from the shore, warm eyes watching over the younger who carefully balanced on the rocks making up the river’s bed. For sure, they weren’t, they were supposed to catch fish and bring them over to the camp for lunch, and it seemed awfully irrelevant by the time Jaehyun had pulled his shirt over his head and thrown into the prince’s direction. It hadn’t rained so far, allowing them to walk around in lighter gear this noon, so the fact that his shirt had joined his boots hardly bothered him anymore.

Feeling the older’s eyes on him, Jaehyun tilted his head lightly, a smile painted upon his own lips as he asked, “Want me to show you more?” He wouldn’t oppose taking off his pants actually, considering they’d only get wet by fishing anyways it might not even be the worst of decisions he could possibly make. 

“If you dare take off any more,” the royal started, eyes darted down where half of the fighter’s body yet remained hidden, “I’m not sure I can hold myself back, darling.” It drove a shiver of heat down Jaehyun’s spine just to hear those words, at the same time, he could feel the beat of jealousy on his arm, a faint echo in his heart that had him shaking his head in disbelief.

“Never learning, are you?” He whispered, directed at the distorted sword circling his skin rather than the royal he was out and about with. Whether or not he’d get some sort of response, he did not further care for, as a movement against his ankle called for his attention and fast reflexes, hand cutting through the water to take a hold of the slippery fish, nails digging into its scales so it wouldn’t slip away just like that. At least Taeyong had been right about this being a good spot to do so, even when it seemed questionable that the witcher not eating any animals was reporting this to them, of all people.

From the shore, Johnny let out a bright sound of encouragement, before getting out of his boots, too, to come take the fish from the younger, trapping it in the towel they had taken along for that very reason. Whilst talented at fishing, though, Jaehyun didn’t know how exactly he was supposed to take care of them, cooking not one of the tasks he was too familiar with. Definitely, mixing ingredients together in a pot was one thing but having to skin animals and gut fish, those activities were a bit too challenging for him just yet.

“Good boy.” The prince grinned, holding the towel open, and just as the fish fell into it, Johnny leaned in to press a quick kiss to the younger’s lips. It demanded Jaehyun’s focus to entirely slip from everything not his nocturnal lover, lost in the little signs of affection they were allowed to share in between, when the others were away or asleep. The exact effect it had on the younger, though, hearing the praise, he hoped went past Johnny who’d only take advantage of it, the warmth pooling low in his groins at the praise.

There were times it seemed difficult to be around the other, especially for those reasons, for the audacious ways his own body could react to the simplest of things, and he wasn’t certain whether it was for being momentarily hooked on pleasure he hadn’t known before or more. Like the high of a victory that was ever so addictive, like a drug corrupting one inside out. After a harsh loss, there was nothing quite to get one’s pride up than winning again, to climb up from the dirt to the gold, but those shining shimmery things could all too easily be ruined. If he, now, got too attached, yearning for a high he wouldn’t be able to experience again once he was too used to it, he was afraid it would lose its appeal. That Johnny would lose his appeal. Nothing but a thrilling affair on a journey filled with adrenaline.

Another fish danced around their feet, and had it not been for the prince’s gentle nudge to remind him of their task, Jaehyun might have allowed it to slip away without noticing. Looking up, slippery scales in his hand and fish falling into their improvised net, he couldn’t help notice the concern in Johnny’s eyes, the kind of look that would have anyone feel ashamed of their very thoughts. Truly, if so much power was expressed with a single glance, Jaehyun didn’t dare question what kind of admirable king the other would turn out to be. Funnier even, how used he already was to address Johnny in his mind as such, their future king, ruler of these lands he got to explore for the first time in his life. It was progress he had not initially anticipated.

“What are you thinking about?” The prince asked, dry hand coming forth to brush back midnight blue hair, tucking them behind Jaehyun’s ear as much as was possible. His fringe he usually liked well trimmed so it wouldn’t bother him in a fight had grown more than he liked in the recent weeks, far away from the girls at the bathhouse and their intimidating unhairing knives. 

“You,” the fighter answered easily, albeit it didn’t sound half as romantic as he would have wished. It was saddening, because his own feelings were not the best, worried about what Johnny would think if he actually spoke up now, his thoughts about fleeting emotions he was not used to. After another second and Johnny curiously tilting his head to the side, he elaborated, “Us. What we actually are.”

“We can be anything you want.” Fingers tracing along Jaehyun’s furrowed eyebrows one by one, smoothing out the wrinkles in between them, the prince smiled softly. “The only thing I could not bear experiencing is you leaving me after all of this is over.”

What an elusive thing it was, this reality of theirs, their attempt at a secret assassination, to get revenge for both their fathers. Just Jaehyun was not the least assured it wasn’t a deed of vengeance for one of them alone, for Johnny definitely had higher aspirations than ridding this world of the one who had ruined their lives in childhood days. 

“How do you know?” The fighter questioned, tilting his head back a bit to be able to get a better look at the other, soothing eyes, never wavering orbs of faith. It seemed at least one of them could believe in the better of this world, steady like the rocks beneath their feet, not washed away by the currents of water, not eradicated by the cruelty that was being alive. “How can you be so certain it’s not just an infatuation?”

For whatever reason, such question ended up making Johnny laugh, plush lips curled into a feline grin. “Because I got beaten up by you more than once and I’m still standing here. If I can stand having your foot in my face without feeling any less for you, I don’t think there’s much more that could possibly turn me off.”

Such an unexpected thing to say, even Jaehyun couldn’t help but laugh about that despite his solemn mood. Were beating each other up in a friendly competition actually a proof of love, they sure would have confessed to each other plenty of times already. But one thing Johnny had mentioned remained stuck in his mind, was something his focus had latched on, dug its claws inside. “After all of this is over,” he repeated the prince’s exact words, voice softer now, “Let’s see where we’ll go next?”

“Let’s see,” Johnny agreed, both of them knowing it was not a promise to be taken lightly. What they would become after their coup d’etat, after throwing over a faux king, was a riddle left for when there was more time to have it solved. 

A sweet moment, it was only interrupted as the metal around Jaehyun’s arm warmed up, making him hiss from its intensity albeit his skin remained unharmed. Regardless, he glared at Bom’s changed appearance, meaning to scold her already if not for Johnny’s melodious laughter ringing out between the two of them, “She still doesn’t like me?”

“Still doesn’t like you,” Jaehyun agreed with a mean look directed at her, before he moved to gently push the prince’s chest. “Now, get out of the way or we’ll never get our quota of fish. And I’m hungry.”

“Feisty,” the prince grinned, adding a short wink before taking some steps back, where the water was more shallow and fish wouldn’t reach. In agreement, Jaehyun’s stomach grumbled, asking to be filled, and whilst it had the only laughing more, the fighter merely felt his passion flare up, the need to eat burning within his heart and guts, and that would take more than one fish for him for certain. 

▁⛥⌒*ﾟ.

Jaehyun hadn’t ever been to the capital himself - well, as far as he could remember, albeit the story of his origin suggested otherwise, that he had been born here, memories pushed aside as a part of the trauma he could not remember. But despite his lacking knowledge of their country’s geography, even he knew the most basic of facts. Like tightening circles, the closer one got to their country’s center the more civilization one would encounter. The nobles, the advisors, the wise - they all lived close to the center, trickling into traders and the rich, manufacturers and entrepreneurs, from big to small, until eventually the farmers were left, those who needed more land to produce their goods, be it rice or vegetables, meat or milk. 

Therefore it was a given that, on their way to the capital, they made their ways past more and more towns, and as they increased, so did the wealth they exuded. From simple wooden buildings to those with carved entrance pillars, it took less than a week to reach those towns whose houses were decorated in gold, fine silk hanging from their balconies and dresses becoming more and more colorful. It also meant the proof of the current king’s influence stood out more and more.

Contained in Johnny’s luggage was a golden brooch, a beautifully detailed dragon curling into itself, a ruby used for its one visible eye, wrapped into yellow silk to keep it hidden and protected from it all. It didn’t take much thinking to know it was the ruling family’s insignia, and now this very same symbol was looking at them every other moment. A beautifully embroidered dragon, yet, instead of on the colorful surface that was like the prince’s scarf, the black fabric seemed to soak it up. No longer was it a mythical creature speaking of fortune and luck, an image of prosperity, rather it had turned into a threat, its beauty swallowed by the dark, and its constant appearance undeniable.

After days of seeing it, slowly Jaehyun was growing tired of it. Despite growing up at the Academy, he had heard enough stories about glorious knights slaying wicked creatures, not every dragon was as lenient as they were ought to be, and now it seemed nearly ironic that he found himself in exactly such situation. He probably also fulfilled each and every stereotype of these stories where he would have either been the prince saving the damsel in distress or the poor boy suddenly finding himself in a heap of gold, all thanks to the help of magic and luck, and then he’d end up favored by the king. Well, he considered with amusement as he looked at Johnny, that part he probably had accomplished already. 

From a bit further ahead, yet within nearly arm’s length, the older turned his head lightly, eyebrows raised in question. “What are you thinking about?” As it was the same question from a few days before, involuntarily Jaehyun had to smile, lightly raising his eyebrows to convey the answer he didn’t dare give aloud quietly. From the responding smirk, at least he knew the message had been conveyed. “Want to know what I’m thinking about?”

“Hm?” By a tad the younger tilted his head to the side, asking silently to know more. Being in these towns, knowing he wasn’t able to tell the helpful from the traitorous when everyone could overhear, uncertain of who would tell the king the prince had returned, he was feeling paranoid. He had never before felt paranoid, hadn’t needed to worry about those things but now he did. Not simply because of himself, more so because of the consequences that would eventually befall the others of their party. 

“That this town has some wonderful night markets,” the prince started, the meaning behind those words not lost. From further ahead, Taeil shot them a suspicious look which, admittedly, was justified, they weren’t exactly in the kind of situation where they could just visit a night market and go strolling about, at the same time, it might also be the perfect cover. It took but one look at Johnny, though, and Jaehyun was certain he was unable to resist those charming eyes under any given situation. 

“Pick me up from my room then?” Shortly, his eyes darted around, watching how Donghyuck signaled towards an inn they could stay the night at, lacking the golden embroidered black flags more and more other buildings carried the closer they got to the core of this kingdom. A few moments later they already slowed down, and Jaehyun once again adjusted his direction to Johnny, who grinned in amusement.

“Does this mean we aren’t sharing tonight, Jaehyunnie?” The older’s chocolate orbs sparked in amusement and, more than that, in dark aspiration as well, a wicked gleam and yet so enchanting. It shouldn’t be considered a fair ability but for as long as Jaehyun was the one to be on the receiving end alone, he didn’t have an actual reason to protest. Rather than answering in words, he shrugged his shoulder softly, enjoying the dangerous glint showing up for a moment in Johnny’s eyes, as if the answer hadn’t been obvious just yet.

Wistfully Jaehyun’s fingers dragged around the silk adorning his body, the fabric finer than everything he had ever worn before and albeit he had been dressed in this exact gear for what must be an hour by now, he still couldn’t get used to it. “We have to fit in,” Johnny had said earlier before bringing in these new clothes, and fitting in meant adjusting to the exuding wealth all around them. Surprisingly though, the outfit wasn’t as uncomfortable as it might seem, and it was warm enough to spare them from having to drag along more garments as well. 

“You shouldn’t do that,” the prince advised, stopping in his steps so he could pull the younger closer, fingers straightening out the wrinkles before they made their journey down Jaehyun’s arms, empty for a change as he had left Bom at the inn, until they clasped around his unruly hands. “You’ll look like you’re not used to this” - as Jaehyun wasn’t indeed - “and then you’ll arouse attention. Wouldn’t want to be exposed now, would we?”

“Johnny,” the fighter started slowly, looking up at the taller with amusement in his own eyes, “Are you just looking for excuses to hold my hand?” He wouldn’t put it past the prince, not entirely, this joking personality trying to make the best of a situation they couldn’t change. When it came down to it, this date of theirs, too, was just an attempt of making the best of a situation they could not change. Their horses were exhausted, there was no coming along this night, and if they already were to take a rest somewhere, they should be allowed to indulge themselves as well. 

“Mh, maybe,” the older smiled, jest in his eyes, before he twirled Jaehyun around a bit, until he was able to wrap one arm around the younger’s waist and could guide him to walk forth, free hand still entangled with their match. “But I can also just do it like this.”

Walking while in a half-embrace was not necessarily the easiest thing to do, they needed to find their rhythm first, adjust the length of their steps and the pace, but matching came easy after weeks spent close together. Knowing he was close to Johnny, too, made it easier for the fighter to enjoy their time, take in their surroundings and take in the details once again. He hadn’t actually been to a night market before, how should he when living in their run down port town, yet it was an easy decision to declare it one of the most mesmerizing things he had seen so far. The main street they had crossed on their horses just hours ago had been transformed into one of finite line of stalls, selling food and jewelry, the finest of clothes and everyday tools. It was a variety not to be underestimated, and for the first time he actually thought about how many different goods those sailors at their town must have had on board, the very same river connecting to this town before flowing into the capital, it wouldn’t be surprising for them to do their trades around here as well.

Various scents carried in their directions, wafting over from the stalls, carried by the breeze, and arousing Jaehyun’s interest as he eyed them, one by one. Some were considerably harmless, with stuffed steamed buns or roasted meat, the latter being especially tempting after weeks of more or less living vegetarian on Taeyong’s behalf, and some more curious things like what looked like candied insects. Where they even found as many insects seemed like a riddle to him.

“You want something to eat?” Johnny asked, chin supported on the younger’s shoulder as they had to slow down in front of one stall due to pedestrian traffic. Smoke laced by the grease of fat and the appeal of spices lingered in the air, and maybe his eyes had said more than his mouth would have dared to, because one look at the prince and they stopped, lining up in the little queue to get their share of food.

Thinking back to their last proper meal, it might have been in the morning as they had ordered some simple dishes at the inn. Their lunch had been fruits plucked off the trees as they passed them by, and the soup they had quickly had after unloading their luggage hardly could count. So the sight of those treats in front of them right at this moment was indeed tempting, almost enough to already make him salivate, but some questions haunted his mind. Allowing his own head to fall back, Jaehyun looked at the older, squinting his eyes in an act, “Where do we get all this money from anyways?”

“Magic.” Basic as it was, it might be taken as a joke by anyone else who didn’t know better but Jaehyun, as he looked at Johnny, highly doubted it to be a child soothing fairy tale. Just as the rumor of the vendor calling out to customers seemed to drown out most words, the prince leaned into whisper into his ear, “We took enough gold to last us for years, and Taeyong’s birds get us more whenever we run out. He’s hiding it though so don’t consider running away, darling.” 

Gently, barely there, Johnny pressed a kiss to the younger’s ear already flushed red from feeling flustered within this nanosecond. It was the most they could do without attracting attention for too much affection expressed, but such thought slipped to the back of his mind as they moved further up the queue, finally being allowed to order. Already second later were they presented with some fried meat of their own, pulled off its skewer and placed within warmed up bread to make it easier for them to eat without dirtying themselves all over. 

Food in their hands, they slowly got on their way again, devouring it bit by bit as they strolled further down the market. There were a lot of things jaehyun hadn’t seen before, most of which were the jewelry he had never seen in such abundance with the most pieces he knew being the kinds he had seen the girls at the bathhouse having been gifted by their whoremongers. An amount of finely woven fabrics he had never seen before, partly in colors and patterns he couldn’t even have imagined to be made into clothing and yet there they were, right in front of his eyes, tangible but not his to own. 

Curiously he looked at them, tilting his head backwards so he could signal Johnny to listen to him as he asked, “How do they make things like this?” He couldn’t fathom it, more used to fine embroidery and slow gradients now that he had seen them, maybe silk painted in black designs, but these multicolored cloths were far beyond what he could fathom.

From his position, he could only feel Johnny shrug but not see, a response that was telling but also not. “They’re imported so I’m not exactly sure. Why? Do you want one?” The older suggested, directing their steps towards one of the stalls, fingers lingering across some fabric dyed with a sea of falling petals. “This one would suit you well. Quite well.”

“And when,” Jaehyun retorted, raising his eyebrow in question, “am I supposed to wear that?” Less than a piece of clothing, it was just a long spread of fabric, an oversized scarf of sorts.

Behind him, Johnny leaned in for a soft kiss to his throat, smirk painted across plush royal lips. “I’m sure we could find a time, darling.” Pray, tell, it would by no means an innocent time, even Jaehyun could guess that much, warmth spreading through his body for a moment, unhindered without Bom’s interference. If only it was another night like those already spent, he might not be quite as averse to it. 

Before the fighter could further protest that, not to mention ask for the price, Johnny had already acted on it and purchased the fabric that was swiftly rolled into little bundle and wrapped with sturdier cloth to cover and protect it. Just because it was supposed to be his, Jaehyun offered to carry it, allowing the older to keep his hands free as they strolled down the whole length of the market and back again. At the end of it, the end closer to the city gates, where people were less and traffic was calmer, they found a little stall selling tea where they settled at for a cup, enjoying their drink in peace and quiet.

It was also then that Jaehyun spoke up again, head supported on his head as he looked at Johnny curiously, “So, what’s the plan after this? We just walk into your home and I take Bom and stab your uncle or something?”

The suggestion alone, amusing for the fighter, made the prince laugh softly, shaking his head in entertainment and Jaehyun couldn’t help admire the soft strands flying around for a moment, shining golden underneath the lanterns hung up, “No, no, dear, no. First of all, we must keep you a surprise, darling. Furthermore, we’ll have to adjust to his schedule. He’s moved into the inner parts of the palace recently so it will be harder to get to him so we got to work through the details of that, still. Most of all, we need to proceed before the next full moon, otherwise we’ll be in trouble.”

Low in his throat rumbled agreement as he considered the word. He, too, as the one wielding the sword should probably familiarize himself with these places he didn’t know, just knowing about their vague plans was not sufficient to calm his nerves entirely just yet. Johnny taking his hand, though, worked in that favor, fingers warmed up from the tea squeezing reassuringly around his own, fondness seeping through their touch.

“After all of this is over,” the prince started again, eyes softening with affection and endearment alike, “Allow me to take care of you, Jaehyun.” An offer that made his heart swell as well, words he had never been presented before. They made him smile, even when he tried to hide it by taking a sip from his cup. Rather than answering with words, as had been Johnny’s proposal, he allowed his fingers to give an answering squeeze in return and glimpsing up, he could see the noble smile. Sometimes not everything had to be said out loud for meaning to be conveyed.

▁⛥⌒*ﾟ.

The palace was nothing like what Jaehyun had originally imagined, based on his already limited creativity when he never had seen an impression of it, never had seen pictures nor heard tales. Even after all of their journey, he barely had heard any stories of the capital and palace, and in retrospect it wasn’t too unlikely. If these four actually had spent months if not years away from their home, when such place was tarnished by the story of a childhood ruined, Jaehyun wouldn’t have it in him to talk much about it either. So he didn’t dare question too much, not when he could just take it in quietly too.

From all the towns they had seen so far, usually put into the valleys of stretched out hills, the capital was by far the most interesting. Instead of using the hollow of the ground, they had taken advantage of its raise, had strategically taken advantage of the cliffs the height of three houses towering at its back. Up there, based on the black banners hanging down from the buildings, tarnishing the beautiful yellow structures, must be the military camps, including the training grounds and sleeping halls. Up there, because a cliff made for a great strategic defense but it was also a weakness, so before anyone could possibly abuse it for an ambush, covering it with soldiers was the only logical move. Even he could understand that much. And, just below it, was the palace.

Already from the city gates could he spot it, past the slowly raising roofs of the houses crafted in circles around the royal grounds, the pile simply stood out. More than just red walls and roofs, the regal buildings themselves were covered in yellow and gold, ruined only by the black fabric hung up in between, draped from balconies and hanging off poles, it was a contrast too drastic to be considered beautiful anymore, too striking. It felt like the dark was violating the beauty of the buildings, and Jaehyun was still hung up on that as they slowly made their way past.

He hadn’t exactly paid attention at the gates, hadn’t noticed who of the others had got them all inside, but the sight of the guard dressed in black only had him thinking back to Ten’s camp. Johnny hadn’t been lying back then, about the dirty tricks used by his own uncle, and Jaehyun subconsciously raised his hand to his chest, feeling for a wound he had never had. Around his arm, Bom radiated warmth, the soothing tones of an embrace she couldn’t give, regardless, it didn’t harm her intent, and meekly he smiled at her covered up form on his limb. 

Paying less a mind to the route the others chose, he focused more on his surroundings. Not that they were too different from what he had priorly seen, from the many towns they had passed by in the recent days, but the overall aura was different. Nobody dressed badly, there was only the finest of silk, and even the less wealthy frames of the city barely seemed to lack money to support themselves. It was a contrast, only the creme de la creme, and it was confusing to know he was supposed to fit in there but he could not, because he had not grown up in this city, was not familiar with its ways. 

“Taeyong,” he asked as he twisted his upper body around, meaning to catch a look of the magician behind him, “Where did my father…?” The question faded out, unfinished, albeit he was certain the older would get it. Out of all of them, despite the others maybe knowing the city better, he could only suspect that the witcher would know best, knowledged about those who wielded magic and where they were, and about those times they had all still wet their bed likely.

“In the palace.” Taeyong nodded ahead, in the direction of where they were heading, the walls intimidatingly close, and minutes of riding forward slowly also meant he was seeing the river circling the walls for the first time. Some several feet in width, it explained the gap between the normal houses and the royal grounds he had seen before. “Your father also worked as a scholar, not to mention his affiliation with… Well, with Johnny’s father.” The older smiled wryly, a memory that must be more alive for those who could remember it well. 

Without Jaehyun having paid attention, they had already reached the bridge spanning the waterway, and this time he looked more carefully, watched as Taeil pulled out his own chop to gain them entrance. Surely the royal sigil would draw too much attention, albeit the fighter couldn’t be too certain the soldiers didn’t recognize their prince, expressions to stoic and stiff. Only whether it was just the drugs or already training he couldn’t tell. He had been able to, at first, like when he had been around Taeyong but recently he couldn’t even do that. It was a blessing, truly, to no longer suffer those bouts of migraine was a blessing but to sense but the smallest thing now, to at least know how much these soldiers were influenced, would at least be a nice deed now. 

Out of reflex he lowered his head as they passed by the guards, passed the walls into the royal grounds. It didn’t look too different from outside, ignoring the change of colors or the fact the distance between the houses was greater, farther apart, carvings on their gates to tell their purpose apart, and his eyes traveled across their inscriptions curiously. 

“It’s there,” Taeyong interrupted him, hand gesturing at a house to their side, nothing grand telling it apart from the others at first glance, not until the witcher advised, “Look closely. You’ll know.”

Their horses had stopped, allowing Jaehyun to do just that, his eyes focused on the entranceway, darting around the little surrounding gardens, and he didn’t understand it at first. Not immediately, it took him a while to realize it was not about the building itself but the surrounding the details, the slightly blue ivy that climbed one of the walls, the red grass that could be glimpsed at behind the garden walls, growing in rugged manners for it had not been tended to in years. Probably ever since they had been forced out of there, albeit the traces were undeniable. The blue, the red, their hair and their blood. 

“Jaehyun,” Johnny called from ahead of them, some feet down the lane as they had stopped too late. An unwelcome reminder of reality, just when it had felt like the fog around his mind was palpable, a distant memory he wanted to reclaim, it slipped away from him again. His head jerked around, looking at the prince who regarded him with tender eyes. “Soon.” A single word, a mighty promise. That, soon, this would be over. That, soon, this could be his house again. That, soon, he had a chance at another life.

“Let’s go now,” Taeyong advised, voice sympathetic, as he directed his horse to pass by the younger, hand reaching forth to pat the younger on his shoulder. “We’ll stay somewhere else. The faster we get there, the faster we can also finish our plans, Jaehyunnie.”

“Hm,” the younger hummed in agreement, softly kicking his mare’s flank to get her moving, but his eyes remained on the house, willing the memories he had forgotten to return. The foggy taste of past stayed out of his reach, unsatisfactory and inducing his yearning, the craving to know more. Maybe one day he would be able to, it just wasn’t this one.

“Ahead of him, Donghyuck reached his hands towards the sky, whining, “Man, I can’t await a full dinner already! Hey, hey, Taeil! You’ll abuse your power for me, right? Won’t you?” Youthful spirits, they were endearing, and all the more exhilarating as the younger turned around and suggested, “We could also invite your friends, Jae. I’m glad they would like to see you again.”

A kind offer, generous, but Jaehyun shook his head no. Pulling them into this mess would do none of them good, information that could be used against them at another time. He didn’t want to have to go through that, and neither did he wish the same for them. “Thank you,” he smiled anyways, it was an offer he appreciated in thought alone. There was enough time for a repeat of it after all of this. 

▁⛥⌒*ﾟ.

Steam filled the bath house, smaller than the one he knew from home but that was to be expected, after all, it was no brothel where the whoremongers were entertained by the ladies in their gowns so sheer barely anything was covered in first place. Instead of a hall it was but a room, warm, and misty, and he would have barely realized someone had stepped in if not for the loud sound of the outside door. 

Jaehyun allowed his head to fall back, onto the cushion he had grabbed from a shelf, to look at the intruder, his eyes roaming the bare body presented to him and it should be considered weird that just from the shape of the calves he could recognize the one who had come in. But when his eyes had directed upwards enough to meet Johnny’s face, he couldn’t help the grin that crossed his features. “Nice view I got there.”

More than seen it, blurred by the fog, Jaehyun could tell from experience that the prince had both his eyebrows raised in amusement, a sight that only became more visible as the royal approached the tub and stepped into it, one leg after another, allowing the younger to observe every flex of muscles. The shift of light that was visible on firm thighs, tempting him to trace his fingers against the glistening skin, and for the short moment he was allowed to, his eyes fixed on his lover’s exposed crotch. Barely seeing it, arousal could have churned up his guts already if he weren’t as heated up already, so he allowed his eyes to roam the skin that was slowly covered by water as long as he could, tensing abs and twitching pecs.

A pleased hum vibrated in his throat just as he looked at Johnny’s face again, almost all else hidden from his sight, and it wasn’t like he was going to complain. The prince’s face was noble indeed, and the way brown strands were brushed back to not flop into that handsome visage, slicked back by water but weighed down by the wet heat in the air, it was an unfair sight. It had Jaehyun snort in amusement prior stating, “I didn’t actually consider how appealing a bathhouse might be before… Guess I do get the appeal now.”

Amusement was painted across the older’s face, lips curled into an obnoxious smile the fighter wasn’t sure he wanted to get rid of with his fist or his hand. “Are you saying you’re interested in paying for my affections?”

“No,” the younger replied, twisting his upper body so he could look at the other better, arms placed on the edge of the tub and cushion placed between those and his chin to rest comfortably. “I think I’m receiving enough of those.” Teasingly, he raised an eyebrow, allowing his tongue to wet his lower lip. “Or why else would you have me staying in your room again?”

“Point to you,” the older laughed, mimicking Jaehyun’s posture as their gazes locked, “But nobody will question the situation if they think you’re my gallant. Offensive as it may be, they’ll consider you my plaything only, and they won’t suspect anything. Especially not my uncle.”

It was offensive, no doubt there, explained the whispers that had followed him on his way to the bathhouse despite the early hour but, undoubtedly, rumors traveled faster than light. No halt to their spreading, they would always outpace them, it was only reassuring to be finally able to know exactly what they were about. Eventually it only meant that he was prepared for whatever they would throw at him, come that situation.

“Are they wrong? We are in that kind of relationship, are we not?” Jaehyun retorted, his fingers drifting through the water where they barely brushed the surface only to playfully splash some at the older. The force wasn’t nearly enough to reach Johnny, neither enough to eradicate the playful glint in chocolate orbs before they turned softer.

“No,” Johnny answered, skilledly managing to drawl it out until it sounded like a question while simultaneously carrying all the confidence possible in his voice, “Because it’s not just your body I want, Jaehyun.” Who didn’t notice the hand moving underwater and flinched slightly when warm fingers splayed across his chest, just off his sternum to the left, just above where his heart was beating steady and strong. “All of you. I want it all.”

Honesty like this shouldn’t be treated unkindly, not with the way the younger could feel this little organ accelerating, beating faster and harder, and it was embarrassing. Too intimidate to be ignored or exposed, he moved his hand up to grab Johnny’s and remove it from his chest, raise it up to his lips just so he could place kisses against the knuckles each. He couldn’t deny that his heart wasn’t averse to it, possibly yearning for it, but too many questions remained unanswered, and he hadn’t yet made up his mind. Wasn’t it the greatest burden in life, to decide between matters of the heart and the mind. 

Johnny didn’t immediately pull back his hand, left his fingers lingering even when Jaehyun’s slipped down to his wrist, thumb caressing the younger’s lower lip. Gentle at first but more insistent after a moment, until they parted, greeted jovially by Jaehyun’s tongue as he licked against it. Royal orbs darted down, shamelessly observing as that same finger pushed further inside, pressing down onto the wet muscle until the younger was unable to swallow anymore, saliva pooling in his mouth, covering Johnny’s finger.

It was then that the older leaned in, thumb hooked to the corner of the fighter’s mouth for another moment, simply to allow the prince to go for an open mouthed kiss from the get-go, slick and wet, at the same level of those they shared in the heat of passion when neither of them was any longer capable to regulate their breathing and volume. Resembling these moments so much, it was impossible to ignore the heat behind it, the way his insides turned into knots, pleasure building up too fast. So the first touch of a sensitive spot, of Johnny’s finger pressing into the hollow of his clavicle, had him losing his mind and thoughts.

A moan slipped from his lips, right into the older’s mouth who picked up on it efficiently, tongue rubbing against his teeth and foreign weight on his thighs when the prince moved to straddle his lap. It made it awkward to kiss, with Johnny being taller, height further elevated by being on top of the younger’s legs, had Jaehyun arching his back and tilting back his head to accommodate the older leaning down. As uncomfortable as it was arousing, it was impossible for him not to shiver in anticipation, of what else might come, what the royal had yet to offer. 

Almost too much, such was the entirety of their situation, of getting a taste of something he had already experienced, the greed that came from having been deprived until moments ago, until he had tasted those same lips again. He had been the one to invite Johnny in, allowed the older to go on, and it made being puppeteered all the more delightable. To give in willingly, not refusing because he knew it could only get better, the reward for a moment of enduring, the sweetness of sugar on a bitter fruit. Because of the contrast it was so much better, only by feeling the pain could one appreciate the pleasure.

By the time Johnny pulled away, both of them were out of breath, dizzy from the heat and lack of oxygen in their lungs, and Jaehyun had no spark of refusal within him when the prince demanded, “Turn around, darling.” Another invitation, weighing heavy between the two of them, and the younger was unable to refuse it when he could already feel both their arousal in the little space between their bodies. It was mind numbing, the lack of blood in his head and the lack of air in his lungs, until all his consciousness was once again taken over by Johnny and Johnny alone, the scent lingering around the older, those soft hands roaming his skin, the breath meeting his neck in between rough bites, the pleasure cloying his thoughts.

With a meek push to the other’s chest, Jaehyun pushed Johnny off his lap, given barely enough space so he could indeed turn around and kneel on the bench he had been seated on. His legs spread automatically, allowing easier access as he tried to keep above water level at the same time, exposing himself. It made him feel more flustered than it should, it wasn’t the first time he was on his knees like this, yet neither had it been with a man who made him feel so much ever before. The situation had him keening, feeling as if he could feel each of Johnny’s heated looks, and he couldn’t help burying his face in the cushion he now felt thankful for. 

“So beautiful,” the prince sighed, silent praise that felt so much more intense, electrifying in a moment like this, and Jaehyun felt shyness and competition overcome him at once, flustered by the praise directed at his behind yet wanting to do better, to give more. He was close enough to whining again when he felt a hand come down on one of his cheeks, echoing through his flesh, and his leg flinched by instinct, meaning to kick the older who barely so got a hold on him. “Hey, hey,” Johnny laughed, leaning in to press little kisses against the younger’s exposed spine, “You’re not a horse, Jaehyun.”

“Don’t hit me then…” The fighter wrinkled his nose, couldn’t do anything about those reactions ingrained on him, the physical need to react and attack. Nobody, and especially not Johnny, should be blaming him for that, not when everyone he met also made use of those same instincts of his in one of another way. 

“Spoiled princess,” the older teased, words that shouldn’t be allowed, shouldn’t be forgiven, but were forgotten the moment Johnny had pulled his cheeks apart, placing a fluttery kiss to Jaehyun’s hole, warm and wet, soaked from the drawn out bath. Such little contact, it punched the air out of his chest, a deed only achieved by the royal alone, an exclusive right, driving him insane. Defenseless was how Jaehyun felt at that, and still he didn’t mind, knowing with whom it was, that he might be vulnerable but not to be exploited, a mutual line of trust neither of them would ever dare to cross. 

Fingers curling around the cushion, the younger took a shaky inhale when Johnny’s tongue prodded at his entrance, circling and rubbing it to the point it was loose, opening it up enough to dive his tongue past the ring of muscles, allowing Jaehyun to be overcome by the sweet sensation of lust. It was unlike all he had experienced before, less slick than the oils he had priorly used but warmer and softer than any finger could possibly be, it robbed him off all sense. His toes curled around nothing and his legs fell further apart, his hips might have fallen below the waterline of not for those hands curled around his thighs, spreading his ass, keeping him up. A merciless torment, in and out, the lengthy moans leaving his lips matching the rhythm of every lick and thrust. 

“John- Johnny,” he groaned, demanded, and buried his face further into the cushion, breathing heavily into it until he wasn’t sure it was soaked by water more or his spit. His command was not left unanswered, took but a moment to be acted on, as the older pushed the first finger inside, replacing his tongue, but easily finding home. Just a few seconds of rubbing Jaehyun’s inner walls and the younger was crying out loud, hips bucking upwards, silently asking for more. 

He wasn’t disappointed, not with the way Johnny kept rubbing against his prostate, roughly pushing against the edge of it, unto the point Jaehyun had tears in his eyes from the stimulation. Spit made his hole slick, and the desperate whine that left him when that one finger was pulled out was near immediately replaced with a needy moan when two replaced it. The stretch was more intense, and after so much time of not having felt so it was overwhelming, the way it pulled on his muscle, spread him open, every digital knuckle to be felt inside. 

Utter torture, there was no other way to call it but that, the insistent way Johnny pressed into his sweet spot, making sure there was no way coming down from such high was possible, pleasure everlasting, overtaking his all. When gently kisses traced up his spine, it was nearly haunting, the difference between such rough and intimate massage and the softness of lips pressing into his skin. No bites, no sucks, just Johnny’s mouth brushing along his back, up and up, until the taller’s chest was pressing down onto Jaehyun’s torso, a claim, overwhelming but never suppressing. 

Mouth against his nape, along his hairline, and seconds passed until he could feel the prince’s breath against his ear and, just like before, he was unable to deny the command when it was whispered into his ear, “Touch yourself. Make yourself cum, darling.”

Shudders broke through his body at the simplest touch of his hand to his dick, angrily red and awfully wet, it made for a smooth glide as he jerked his hand up and down, the movement not nearly as fluid as it should be when he was at the mercy of Johnny’s every thrust. The combined pleasure, the stimulation of his prostate and his own fingers knowing his every sensitive spot, worked well, turned him into a moaning mess as he felt pleasure washing over him, lighting up his every nerve ending. It was a slow build, his orgasm, and it didn’t make it any less intense, turned up a notch with every thrust, with every jerk, until he was spilling his seed into the surrounding water. 

His climax came in ickle waves, lasted longer than it should as it was drawn out with all incoming moves, to the point he was but a trembling pile of limbs. He could still come, could still feel the rush of pleasure simmering in his veins, but the more they dragged on the more painful it became, and when there was barely any cum to shoot, he retreated his own hand to keep himself an ounce insance. 

Johnny wasn’t quite as nice, but a helpless whine and weakly slapping at the older’s arm was enough of a hint, movements stilling, fingertips against his prostate bordering on too much, before the prince, too, pulled back. The loss of contact had Jaehyun crashing onto the spring’s frame, out of breath in a way he should only be after a night of fights, not from an orgasm alone, but it was also that realization that had him huffing exhaustedly into the cushion. The prince really was something…

And, thinking of the prince, of Johnny, he could also feel the older’s length hard against his back thanks to how the other was still bent over him. It wasn’t fair, shouldn’t be only him to feel like this, and with one of his hands no longer supporting his weight, at least he was able to take a hold of the older now. Clumsily he reached around, until he could feel the still hard cock against his fingers, its twitch against his back from a simple touch alone.

“Move back,” he whispered, not trusting his own voice to be audible, but when Johnny did indeed move back, with some delay, just so much as Jaehyun allowed him to with his fingers curled around the royal cock, it meant the younger was able to pursue his own ideas. Holding the older’s arousal down, he guided it between his legs only to close his thighs around it, faking wet tightness that he wasn’t able to offer himself.

“Use me,” he offered, looking at the older over his shoulder, eyes heavy from the strain already and yet he didn’t want to miss the sight. Johnny looked beautiful like this, skin glistening, muscles tense, water droplets running down every here and there, collecting in the curves and going on stronger. Hair slicked back, face revealed, the bright flush high on carved cheekbones, it was the kind of sight Jaehyun was certain he could never get tired of, not in five days nor in fifty years. A sight like this, magnificent and attractive alike, he didn’t want to miss a second of it.

For another moment it seemed the older was looking for any trace of reluctance on the fighter’s face when all there was to find was the drowsiness of great sex and the willingness to return the favor. Another second of hesitance, and Jaehyun tightened his muscles around Johnny’s dick, decreasing the space and visibly sending a jolt of pleasure through the prince’s body. It sufficed, brown orbs darkening in an instant, and the same spark traveled throughout the younger’s frame when the prince placed one hand on the floor next to his head. 

With this kind of support there was no halting the older any longer, one tentative thrust was followed by another, and within seconds they became ruthless, jostled Jaehyun’s body forth, had his knees knocking against wood and thighs straining against the frame. Going at such intensity, there was no way either of them would have any energy left for the remains of the day, nevertheless, with the sweetness it brought the fighter there was no way he could call for a stop. 

All their actions, being on the observing seat for so long, bringing pleasure to Jaehyun first, must have strained Johnny more than he let on. Teeth gritted, nails digging into the wood, second hand clenched tight around the younger’s hip to keep him in place despite the very construction of the bath forbidding any escape, it all became obvious now, had the fighter surprised with the endurance the older had shown until then. 

“C’mon,” he grunted into the misty air as he flexed his thighs again, simultaneously as he pushed himself up enough to be able to grab Johnny by the neck. The angle was horrible, it hardly even allowed them to kiss but it was the intent that mattered, to share their breath, to feel every quiver of each other’s lips, the strain that was the prince’s breath. Teeth bit down on Jaehyun’s lower lip, revenge for the way he pushed his legs together more, and let go only for a guttural groan. 

Movements mostly stopping, Johnny only rode out his high with little thrusts while heat seeped between Jaehyun’s rubbed raw thighs, electrifying against his sensitive flesh but oh so sweet. This time exhaustion lulled to both of them at once, Johnny holding on to the younger’s waist as he allowed them to settle back into the water before turning them around, Jaehyun sat between the prince’s legs. 

“Fuck…” He cursed, sinking lower into the water, head falling back onto Johnny’s shoulder only to be rewarded with little kisses to his damp hair. Warm fingers traced along his skin, dove between his legs to rub away at any possible remains of cum, gentle against his reddened skin. 

“Fuck indeed,” Johnny mumbled too, amusement tinting his words, painting them with delight. “You’re wonderful, Jaehyun. So beautiful, so strong, so-”

Despite his arms feeling like lead, the mentioned didn’t hesitate raising one up and behind to slap at the prince’s shoulder, attempting to make him shut up. “Yeah, yeah! I get it,” he cut the speech off, pushing out his lower lip somewhat in protest. Unprompted, their earlier conversation returned to his mind, the very reason this had started anyways, and an amused snort escaped him as he tilted his head just enough to look at the older, “You think there’ll be more rumors about us now? The indecent gallant seducing his prince in the royal bathhouse?”

For a second, Johnny seemed confused at these words, needing a second to catch up and trace back their words. But when he did, melodious laughter filled the otherwise empty room, colliding against heated fog and bouncing around. “Really something,” he answered, shaking his head, brown strands flopping around, before his finger’s met with Jaehyun’s hips under water for a few gentle taps. “We should get going soon before we turn into dried plums, darling.”

“Hm, sure, m’lord,” the younger jested, smile on his lips. Sitting in the heat for too long wouldn’t do either of them good but just for a bit longer he wanted to indulge in their closeness, in the embrace they shared. Who even knew when they’d have as much time together next when Johnny’s plans might be kicked into motion at any possible time now. 

▁⛥⌒*ﾟ.

Nothing much actually happened in the following days and the restlessness had gotten to him, spending some hours every day familiarizing himself with the palace grounds, the quickest routes to get here or there, and the endless whispers seemed to follow him everywhere. During their first meeting, Johnny had mentioned how his uncle had retreated to the innermost buildings only, where the guards increased and kept a tight watch. It made it difficult for all of them but Taeyong to get closer, who snuck in by lending a bird’s consciousness, or imitating a mouse governing the castle grounds. Only thanks to that were they able to tell some things apart.

Aside from that, from creating a plan of every building’s location in his mind, he had also found out that in the wee hours of morning barely anyone was around. The guards didn’t patrol between the outer and inner walls, relying on those who kept watch of the gates and who passed by, securing all but those with permit. Sneaking through a river was basically impossible with the lanterns illuminating the night, too, and that meant Jaehyun was safe as he made his way across the yards.

His sleeping patterns had bettered with Johnny around, every night he was lulled to sleep by the prince’s embrace, the consoling warmth, but they hadn’t regulated entirely. There were still days he got up before the sun had risen, and this day was none too different. At this point, Jaehyun knew to take advantage of it, to walk around without curious eyes observing him so he could find the paths no one else knew or, as he currently did, to sneak to the late Jeong housing with its ivy looking black at night and the red grass looking like dried pools of blood. 

It was haunting to the eye, to make it simple as that, and at the same time it lured him in, this feeling of home that wrapped around his heart, the comfort of being at a place he was supposed to be at. Eerie in entirely different ways, there was no way he could refuse it, could resist it, and thus he didn’t hesitate as he pushed one of the doors open, a tree not too far away and hopefully hiding his traces from prying eyes. He was still paying attention to the outside as he slipped in, closing the door behind so he would not give himself away. 

Only when he was certain no one had noticed him did Jaehyun allow his eyes to roam the insides, quick to realize he must have entered the room serving as a small in-house kitchen, likely to not be too dependent on the palace one. There wasn’t much to see, some tea was still placed around, some dry ingredients like herbs, but mostly dust had settled all over, assuring him that even if any food had been left behind, it would no longer last, not with as much time had passed since someone had come by. 

With nothing to find, he made his way to the other side of the room, to the courtyard framed by every building around, allowing him to move unseen from the outside. It was as overgrown as the insides had been dusty, grass the height of his hips, the water in the pond a dirty brown from having no longer been cleaned, and any flowers withered. A heartbreaking sight, the evidence of its neglect, and he avoided his eyes to the next door.

One by one, he glimpsed at the rooms, at the common room to welcome guests, a game of chess spread on the table with the white side clearly winning, some cups lingering around. Whatever had happened, it must have been sudden, and it didn’t surprise him. After getting word of his best friend being killed, his father must have hoped it was all over, that there was nothing more to fear. Oh, if only he had known…

Hand rubbing across his chest, Jaehyun wondered whether that was how it had actually played out. At the time of his father’s murder, had his mother and him still been in town? He doubted it, not when they had indeed been supposed to be hidden from the king’s side but then, how had they been found? So many questions, and he was afraid only Yuta would be able to answer them at this point. 

Wistfully, he drove his fingers along a curtain meant to divide the room, keep those behind it away from overly enthusiastic ears. Only dust was shaken off it, some moth freeing itself from the thick cloth to flutter around the room. Time spoke for itself, of this far away past, a time he could no longer get a hold of. 

It hurt, having to leave behind those little bits of memory his family had left behind but curiosity drove him forward as he made his way out of yet another room. The third, he felt, might just be the worst. It was smaller but it had his heart aching in pain as he looked around, at the doll on the ground, the wooden blocks to play with in a corner, the small and low bed against one wall, not as steep to make sure a kid falling out of it would not get injured. He had been that child, and the realization had his legs go numb. 

Weight slinking against the doorframe, he allowed his weight to sack him downwards unto he was sitting on the ground, taking in the room he could have grown up in if things had turned out differently. A five minutes stroll away from Johnny, would he have fallen in love with the prince under other circumstances? There was no way to tell.

His eyes lingered on a mobile, a collection of little painted stars hung up on bars, just above where the pillow had been. The colors had chipped off but even like this, in the dim light of night, he could see them, could feel the trickle of time flowing backwards until it was him seeing the same mobile from beneath, the different hues shining bright in the sunlight, the echo of laughter ringing in his ears. It was a memory filled with the lasting warmth of summer, with joy and delight, affection and love. The laughter of his mother, the distant sight of fabric weaving through the air, and reality caught up to him again.

No longer was the room colorful and bright but his heart still ached, pained with the remembrance of what had been before the Academy. He wanted to hurt for longer, to take his time to accept the reality of it, but that same thing he was short of, time was running out of him, and he’d have to leave before the sun would rise. 

Steps staggering, Jaehyun pushed himself upwards, not daring to take any of his childhood belongings aside as he closed the door to try for one more room before he might have to make a dash for it. It was another bedroom, bigger, meaning it had been his parents’. It was simple and bare, jewelry placed on shelves, rings and hairpins, bracelets and hair slides, an abundance of those meaning his father had been able to treat his mother well. More than those, clothes had been orderly folded and placed in chests, wrapped in different colors of silk perhaps hinting at their design, the scent of flowers rising up to keep the bothersome insects away. 

Jewelry and clothes, no books nor writings, they clearly had not used this room for anything but private matters, and while he couldn’t help wonder how his mother had looked in those ornaments, all the more since he knew his father’s appearance. The only thing he felt certain of was that she must have been a beautiful woman, owning a wonderful heart. He sighed, looking around for one last time, wishing he could take it in in full light but, simultaneously, there was a wave of relief washing over him. Regardless of any and all, their memento had not been dishonored, their things left behind and not stolen. It was the only solace to find in such situation.

Only one room remained for him to inspect, and this time he felt like he had won eventually. Books upon books, heaps of scrolls, it must have been his father’s working space, interlaced by the gentle designs of female hobbies, of stitching and sewing, the little scrolls filled with poems of all kinds. Considering how their house had been indicated as theirs by the plants around, he didn’t consider his father would have kept anything in plain sight, not if there was any greater meaning to it.

Eagerly, his eyes roamed around, looking for the hints, but the scrolls were hardly telling of anything, the books were copies from the library, they wouldn’t give too much away. But what did, the only thing his eyes could possibly fix on, was the little star penchant hanging from one. A star just like the one hung on the mobile, a star made for him, in vivid colors unlike what the prophecy of his life had told. 

No longer did he hesitate as he wrapped his fingers around it, pulling it out from its heap on the shelf to push it into his belt instead, clothes draped around it so it would mostly remain hidden. Glimpsing outside, the sky was already colored a lighter color, a greyish blue illuminating the clouds hanging heavy and low, foretelling of the rain that would soon come down on them again. Time was truly running out and he would need to leave although it pained him to have to go, he wanted to stay longer, wait for more memories to come back but for all of these he’d have endless much time once their matter had been resolved. 

“I’ll return,” he whispered into the air, as if someone would actually hear, prior to making sure the door was closed well and its insides kept safe, before he made his way out the same way he had come in. Luckily, no one had seen him, or so he had thought. 

He had just glimpsed past the garden walls, left and right, to make sure no one was around before he walked away, when a voice called out to him, “Jaehyun, right?”

Said man’s eyes widened as he looked around, at the one who had addressed him, a tall and slender man, eyes slanted charmingly, dressed in the same colors he had come to associate with Taeil. Pale gold woven into grey silk, it was the color of the advisors themselves, standing by the crown’s side. But Taeil was Johnny’s and this man… 

Unease fluttered down his nerves for a moment, his fingers reaching for his empty arm as he tried to make sense of it, and even the reassuring smile of the stranger wasn’t enough to calm his nerves. “Johnny told me about you,” the man amped it up, a dozen teeth revealed in a bright smile. “I was just heading over so we would have met anyways. Want to accompany me?”

“How…?” Jaehyun started, frowning lightly at the mention of the prince, at the idea of Johnny having talked about him to another man. His uncle’s man, nonetheless.

“Your features stand out a lot. Johnny did say you’re a handsome man but I don’t think he did you justice.” Dark orbs traveled across the fighter’s stance for a moment, then at the abandoned house next to them. A thousand thoughts a second, they could be seen racing in the advisor’s mind but whatever conclusion was drawn, it was never said out loud. “Breakfast will get served soon, we better get going now.”

Slowly, Jaehyun nodded his head in agreement, not certain how much he was supposed to trust this man, such was a decision he’d have to leave for the prince to make for the time being. “This way then,” he mumbled, tilting his head in the direction they were supposed to go. After this, Johnny sure would have some explaining left to do.

▁⛥⌒*ﾟ.

Moss roses were beautifully growing around, twirling around his feet as he carefully swayed back and forth on the swing. He hadn’t been on years, the only one around their town had broken down some years ago, ruefully so it had been partly Jaehyun’s fault as well, meaning he had no right to complain about it. That didn’t mean he didn’t get to enjoy the swing now, located in Donghyuck’s family’s garden.

The calm before the storm, that was how it felt like, to be able to relax for a while longer, with the thoughts about what was to come clotting his mind when he was but a pawn. At first he had tried to keep track of what Taeyong, Taeil and Johnny had discussed in regards to everything possibly happening only to find out he couldn’t follow those conversations well enough. Their understanding of everything in terms of layout and strategy, the many factors they involved, were way above what he could handle, like a game of chess he had always lacked the patience for. It wasn’t even like they had put it down, they had all kept it in their memory only while talking and that alone had made it too hard to follow. 

In short, he had given up after his first attempt and instead found delight in their golden boy coming over to help him with his exercises some more. By this logic alone, it should be him to invite Donghyuck for a meal, treat him to a drink, make sure everything was to the younger’s liking. Not the other way around, not them being invited to the kid’s place, even when it had allowed Jaehyun to learn a few things.

For one, the kid didn’t live in the palace grounds unlike the rest of them, didn’t have a house there like the one reserved to the royal family members or the advisors or magicians, rather, the Lee household held one grand area close to the cliffs, more garden than building, intercepting the city’s mapping quite effectively. Another was that their golden boy was, as it turned out, actually a golden boy, family involved in the mining business and holding a great stake of not only the gold earnings but also the metal productions. Including the armor and weapons the royal guards were supplied with.

Under these circumstances, it should have surprised Jaehyun that Donghyuck was taking part in all of this dethroning business and yet it hadn’t, for a simple reason - with a heart as pure as the boy’s, knowing what his family was doing, it seemed impossible the Lee son would follow his parents’ footsteps. At the same time, it explained why they were he in first place. To the general public, it was still Johnny who would inherit the throne, his uncle but the stand-in for his late father, and for that same reason, Donghyuck’s parents had been more than delighted about their son’s proximity to the crown prince, thus their invitation. Jaehyun coming along had been but a matter of courtesy, and if his vision had been right, the spirit of his father real, his birth name hadn’t even been such.

It was no wonder, actually, that the others hadn’t found him for so long, always searching for the wrong person, a kid with a different name. By habit, his fingers traced along the imprint of the jewelry that was Bom’s form under his clothes, considering all she had shown him before. One side of the narrative, his father’s side, he had no chance of looking at his mother’s point of view, and looking at the love of family Donghyuck still got to experience despite their different opinions. It was as heart-warming as it was devastating, albeit this family surely could recover as one of the fastest amongst all of those involved.

A warm hand curled around his nape, warmed up from the sun, driving up into his hair to brush through it before lips pressed against the revealed slip of skin. “Hey,” Johnny breathed out, slowly, and at the same time as Jaehyun scooted to the side, the older swung his legs around the smoothened out branch to take a seat next to him. “What are you thinking about?”

After the many times of having repeated this same question, all too often rolling off Johnny’s tongue, it was impossible for Jaehyun not to grin as he heard it, would have shaken his head too if not for the fingers gently massaging against his scalp still. “He’s a good kid,” he answered instead, leaning back a bit to gain better momentum as he pushed the both of them backwards a bit harder. With the added weight, his thighs strained more, a fact he didn’t exactly care about. Despite his daily training in sword fighting, he lacked some of the exercise that was challenging men overpowering him night by night again.

“Hyuckie?” Johnny repeated, eyebrows raised curiously, before teasingly adding, “Are you daring thinking of another person while I am here with you?” Mouth running smoothly, at least the prince joined in on the movement, adding strength to their movement until they could even lift their feet off the ground, softly swaying through the air whilst ignoring the dangerous crunching of the tree the swing was fixed too. 

“Hm, didn’t you know that men have two brains to think with?” The younger retorted as he tilted his head to look at the prince. Talking about thinking though, his eyes darted towards the river that edged on the gardens, not framed by a wall in this case when the waterways would offer enough protection for the inside. Far behind it, the moon was visible despite the early hour of the day, a slowly filling circle that worried him more than he would like. “We’re running out of time soon, aren’t we?”

Within an instant, the mood between them sobered up, reality coming crashing down on them upon the query that would, inevitably, concern all of their future. “We’ll have to move soon.” Johnny’s fingers halted their movement, no longer combing through midnight blue hair. “Doyoung told me that my uncle is planning to enable to emergency protocol. Because of the impending state of war that will start once the first troops cross the boundary. That also includes that he’ll turn the palace into a fortress and it would eventually become impossible for us to get inside there without magic on a level it can no longer be ignored at.”

Jaehyun furrowed his eyebrows at those words, trying to make sense of it. He had only caught glimpses of it before, the innermost part of the palace, the royal greeting hall meetings would be held at and the royal quarters alike, fortified by black iron and gold, it looked less like one would imagine a greeting hall as and more like a military congress. If the guards, too, were increased, it might indeed require more than the five of them to breach it, and that was already including Donghyuck and Taeil who weren’t supposed to fight in first place. Much rather, it would demand them a small army to get in there, a hasslesome consideration.

“How much longer until then?” He asked, rolling the thoughts in his mind like stale bread, the very consideration of how much they would need to risk to get in there. Taeyong might as well be forced to use up all of his magical force in such case, and the price that might demand was not a thing he did want to consider. If Yuta had lost the mobility of one leg to rescue him, he could only imagine the cost at which besieging a fortress came to. 

“Maybe two weeks according to today’s report, maybe less. Moving an entire army takes time and we can’t be yet sure when they’ll be noticed either…” The prince released a sigh, the burden of a kingdom on his shoulder and that included a crown he was not yet carrying. A crown would surely look good on such noble head, though, the younger figured, allowing fantasy to overtake his mind for a moment. 

With a delighted hum he pushed them off the ground again, eyes directed at the sky now, the endless blue with its scattered clouds. “At least we’re finally going to be free of all this planning then. For the better or for the worse, I’ll be happy knowing we’re not longer hindered by this.”

Countless questions were written across Johnny’s features but Jaehyun didn’t answer any of them, he only reached up his own hand to his head, allowing it to meet with the older’s, fingers entwining where they were. “I hope it’ll be for the better, though,” he added, like an afterthought, as he looked at the moss roses again, at their different colors, blooming petals. It looked like an idea of Donghyuck more than anything, to let it grow wild, befitting the kid’s animated spirit and heart. If only their future could grow as brightly as this field of flowers did. 

▁⛥⌒*ﾟ.

The energy was thrumming low in his veins, it made him feel restless as he rolled around the ground, looking for Johnny’s attention, lacking any other distraction but his lover’s attention at the moment. He tilted his head back, bending his neck uncomfortably just so he was able to look at the prince studying whatever kinds of documents, and thought it over for the moment. To the general public they were a pair of pleasure and lust alone but the most touch they had experienced recently was the bound of kisses they had shared before sleeping last night, no revealed skin, no going further than was already displayed.

In actuality, Jaehyun wasn’t certain whether he felt grateful for that or not because simultaneously he missed it, missed the intimacy that came with being bare in front of each other, exposing and revealing their all, and the worries about whether he’d even be in a useful state overcome by pleasure were etched into his mind. There was no way either of them could risk that or, well, Johnny could, knowing more of their plans, whereas Jaehyun felt more on edge simply because he always had, not knowing what kind of encounter he might have night by night again. Only then it had been easier to gauge, sailors didn’t know about fighting quite as much as did the royal guard, the best of the best, those who’d offer him a good brawl.

“You’re feeling it too, aren’t you?” He asked quietly, looking at Bom glinting beautifully against the sun from his raised arm. Johnny had made it a habit of keeping the doors to the inside yard of their greeting room open, meaning the early spring sun was illuminating their place instead of candles, light soft and gentle, warming his bare feet where he had them pressed into the bamboo flooring. 

Behind him, seated in front of a low table, Johnny released a questioning hum, inquiring about Jaehyun’s low mutter but a simple shake of his arm answered all the questions that needed to be answered. The little fact he hadn’t been talking to his humane lover like he should but rather one upfront magical weapon like the perfectly sane man he was. It was nearly laughable, had anyone else told him about it, he’d have considered it a fairy tale. Instead, it had been him to experience it all, so there was no way he was able to doubt it ever again.

As comfortable as their peace and quiet of the moment was, though, it seemed to be interrupted all too easily by one indeed crazy matters. Jaehyun would have believed to have seen a lot of odd things to happen recently but nothing could have possibly prepared him for the sight of a plummeting into their seating room, hectic flutter of feathered wings. It was Taeyong’s hawk, a sight he could recognize with all too much ease after the things that had happened in the recent months, and now it was no challenge to do it yet again.

Yellow eyes sparked bright as Jaehyun rolled onto his stomach, looking more golden than the color of sunflowers in the right kind of light, and it was concerning, even when he wanted to laugh at the sight of the bird tearing the brush out of Johnny’s fingers. Rushedly, the bird tried to write with the bristles on paper but the angle and the wood made it difficult. As a new option, the bird rushed to dip its claw into the ink instead, talon scratching against the paper with every movement that only Johnny could see.

“ _ Ten arrived _ ,” the prince read, and Jaehyun used the little break to get his boots from the entrance and put them on, “ _ Order of treason. Uncle’s- _ ” Neither did the bird get to finish its writing nor Johnny his reading, the clanking of metal and the heavy footfall were enough of a give away of what was to happen next. 

Quickly, the hawk fluttered its wings, leaping into the air and taking off towards the outside, quick rise of height that had Jaehyun suspecting the avian was sitting on the roof to listen rather than watch, for getting caught would do no one any good. Just in time, for the next moment aggravated speech could be heard, instantly followed by their door being torn open. What greeted them was the sight of a captain of the guard, dressed in black armor, a scroll with the crown’s dragon seal revealed.

“Prince Youngho,” the man who must be vice started, “By the king’s demand, we are taking you arrest under the suspicion of treason. We are to take you in custody, as we are currently doing with your conspirators too. If you resist, we will not take to it kindly so be aware!”

It was unruly, to interrupt someone in their private time like this, and just from observing Jaehyun could feel Bom’s agitation pulsating against his arm too. She was upset, as much as he was, even more so as one of the soldiers immediately directed their spear at him at the mere movement that was him trying to lace his boots. “What?” He scoffed, “You’re not expecting me to leave my prince to be alone in custody, do you?”

There was surprise, not only on Johnny’s face as he whipped his head around, never before quite having heard the younger direct him by his title, but also the captain’s who seemed to be overly startled by the question of whether or not Jaehyun was another accomplice or just an innocent bystander. Considering he rumoredly parted his legs for the royal, he might as well be both.

Again, he tried to lace his boots and this time no one seemed to quite act on him, Bom hidden by his sleeve, and he looked at the soldiers once more. There were six he could see, and another bunch must be running around the house to search for them or other traitors of the throne, all in armor, all armed. It wouldn’t be easy to pick a fight now, and his eyes fell downwards to his boots again, to doing the strings tight enough so they wouldn’t slip. For a moment, he closed his eyes but as he opened them, he was no longer in their room.   
The clearing had appeared in front of him once again, the clearing in the mountains that still haunted him at times, not for a fear of his sword but the nightmares she had made him go through. From behind him, someone embraced him, frame slighter than his own, hinting she had taken the form of a woman as her name might suggest. As the way he had always referred to her implied.

“You’re overthinking, Yoonoh,” she muttered, fingers tracing above his heart, drawing little circles, and despite seeing the layers of clothing on his body he could feel her touch as if he was bare, naked in her presence. With how he was forced to reveal his innermost thoughts to her, it might not be too wrong. “You want to protect them, don’t you? Your little prince and your friends?” Her lips brushed against his ear, sent shivers down his spine but rather than the sexually charged thrill he felt with Johnny it was the agitation before a fight, the rush of adrenaline before the first hit. “Take it. Take the sword and let me lead you, Yoonoh.”

After his father, she was the only person to call him like this, the name sounding foreign to his ears and like coming home alike, the warmth of a sanctuary flowing throughout him. One first hesitant step towards the stone and her nails dug into his skin. “You want to take revenge, don’t you? The letter of your father, did you read it yet-” 

Before she could torment him further, he reached for the sword to pull it out of its lithic confinement, her speech interrupted and it felt like her hands were diving into his chest, fingers clenching around his heart. He could envision it, the way her claws dug into it, spreading black poison, corrupting his mind. It had him stumbling backwards, falling, and as he opened his eyes again, he was back in their room. 

No more than a second could have passed, everything was still the same even when he had spent minutes elsewhere, and the familiar softness of leather had returned to his palm, cold heat pulsating through his fingers rather than his arm. Bom had morphed, and as quick as he had realized, so had some others. But, it was funny, there was this same sensation again, the one he had had that time in the mountains, when exhaustion had tugged at his very being, when he couldn’t tell yard from inch, when his mind felt like soft buns with its many air holes inside rather than the steadiness it was meant to be.

Around him, time was stretching thin, it was fabric worn down, becoming translucent, and this time Jaehyun allowed the feeling to wash over him. His eyes directed at the soldier who had already watched him, the panic that was evident only from a slight flinch and the yell meant to burst out and then, with the never coming snap of fingers, everything slowed down. Sounds were distorted and movements decreased, before the same soldier had been able to finish a syllable, a silver blade had already pushed between helmet and chest piece, piercing the man’s throat until it penetrated at the backside. 

The first hit always was the easiest, nobody expected it to come and it would decide the entire fight’s strategy, and under normal circumstances it would mean hell might break loose. Not in this case, though, not when Bom’s magic was radiating outside in waves, when her powers ensured his victory, as he freed her and swung her before the next men had yet had a chance to release their swords.

It wasn’t fair, attacking them when they had not yet pulled their own weapons, but it was their downfall they had challenged a man meaning to avenge his own blood’s death, when they had challenged a supposed gallant whose very instincts screamed to finish this round as fast and effective as was possible. These men, they had not been forced into all of this, too old to be anything but voluntary soldiers in the king’s army, not fodder for a battlefield but skilled by age. He wouldn’t want those supporting war around him anyways.

When even the last body had fallen down, when he didn’t yet need to care about backup, Jaehyun tackled the captain, sword against the man’s throat as he forced him back against one of the walls, and like a veil falling, he could sense Bom’s spell breaking. He hadn’t yet broken a sweat, maybe also thanks to his weapon’s support, but it wasn’t what he cared about, not with Johnny’s terrified amazement radiating against his back and the captain’s wide eyes directed at him.

“Tell me,” he called, digging the blade in deeper until it was drawing a red line, the freshest blood trickling out, “Where is your king?” In the man’s orbs he could see his own reflection, the silver swarming his eyes, the very proof he was still under her influence, Bom’s influence.

“I’m not-” The captain didn’t even get to finish his sentence had Jaehyun already sliced with his sword, dead weight falling to the ground and blood spilling relentlessly. Silver metal glistened red, until that blood, too, was slowly soaked up, not by the ground and the mats but feeding into his sword’s might.

“Where?” He repeated as he turned to Johnny who seemed to have gotten a hold of himself again, bending down to take the sword of one of the men who had already fallen.

“The inner palace,” the prince replied, lips parted to speak again but before it could, Jaehyun felt the familiar pull, the same tug, the way his heartstrings were played. It wasn’t something he could resist, was like getting drunk, a state of inebriation no one could ward off anymore, and so he welcomed it, the rush of power, the endless ammunition that was a cursed sword in his hands. 

By the time Jaehyun had made his way to the gates of the inner palace, a trail of red was painting the path he had taken, regardless of whether or not he had tried to avoid the soldiers on his way, there was no total evasion of lives lost. At the moment, as he was holding a soldier at swordpoint, demanding to be let inside, he couldn’t even feel regret and guilt, emotions like this entirely eradicated from his heart as different reasonings stood at the forefront of his mind. Avenge his father, protect his friends. He was no genius, he didn’t understand politics, but he was no idiot.

Men relying on their ego and pride were always weak to opposition, they spited someone taking away their place. He had experienced it himself, as he had beat those sailing idiots thinking they were oh so great for beating everyone around them before, thinking of themselves of the best, always meaning to overwhelm any possible competitor. A man like the faux king, a man not hesitating to commit fratricide, a man willing to start a war to strengthen his own position, to kill those he had promised to protect, was no different to that. And in a country that had yet to stop regarding the crowned prince as the real carrier of the crown, it came as no surprise he would dismantle such reputation at the first given chance.

Ten had been but an instigator, an interruption to their original plans, but what did plans matter if power was thrumming in his veins, the might to overthrow his every opponent, the strength to win his every fight begun. He was on top of the world, wielding a sword withholding the force of the gods whose blood it had been crafted by, and only those supreme beings might be able to challenge him now. For sure it was no normal human who could overthrow him, although he had hold it to the man currently looking into death’s eye to not panic just yet.

“Open the gates,” he demanded, metal digging into flesh, a thin trail of blood, way scarce than the one he had left on the lithic paving. Climbing this kind of wall was not impossible but it was hasslesome, using up more time than he had to offer, and he didn’t want to bother with it. Not when he had the solution right there, right in front of him.

When the man started to speak, his eyes snapped from the wall blocking his way back to the soldier, only to find ugly disappointment raising its hackles. “I can’t open it. And I won’t.”

Black, black poison. It was filling his veins, replacing the blood trickling from his heart still within her clutches as her fingers guided him to push his blade forth, adding more to the red that had already soiled the clothes given to him by the prince.

“ _ Now, you’re mine _ ,” he could hear her whisper, words echoing through his mind, floating around and remaining stuck. A silver veil lowered in front of his eyes, reality slipping from his grasp like the healthy understand of time, of morals, of the value of life had. His thoughts filled with his one goal, to get the man responsible for all of this, to tear off the head of the perpetrator having ruined his life before it had properly started.

For another moment, he watched his blade soak up the blood covering it, a striking contrast to his scarlet hand, unable to escape the splattering red time and time again. Her lettering was glowing red, an ugly monster rearing its head, a creature wielded unto its holder’s ruin, inevitable insanity. “There goes nothing,” he muttered as he stepped back, head tilted up so he could take in the sight of the wall in front of him.

Working in synch, it came with the inevitable connection they had made the day he first laid hand on her, when he hadn’t yet understood her cruelty, her thirst for blood. He would eventually get it, hours after this all was over, as he would look back at his own path of destruction, mind clear of her influence. At the moment, none of that was present in his mind, skillfully held back by the weapon he held, her encouraging caress of his nape.

It equaled a burst of energy as he teetered on his heels for another second, the kind that was stretched thin, tense to the point of breaking, as he ran forth to gain the momentum to climb the wall, one foot against the paved stones pushing him up so his hands could grab hold of its tiled top. 

What expected him on the other side was none too different of what he had expected, but if not for Bom’s quickened reactions, taking her original shape after she had minutely changed into a bracelet to allow him to heave himself up, he might have been speared at that moment, falling back to where he had come from with a blade piercing his chest. Slowly, his eyes traveled from the avoided weapon to the man who had thrown it, silver flickers at the edge of his sight. A small army, it was what he had been told he would meet, and it had been worrisome at first listen, still should be, but his current state forbade it, the rush he got from her might, it prevented all of these thoughts.

The first drop of rain halted in front of his eyes, stopped by her explosion like force, another spear stopping just short of it. This time, rather than deflecting it, the easier option was to just evade it, dipping down beneath it as he slid down the wall and allowed her to lead his movements once more. Slicing through every little crack of armor, cutting flesh and bone, painting the floor a sea of red. It was dripping from his arms, soaking his clothes until they felt heavy from wet weight, and slowly, the exhaustion was tugging at his being, caught at the edge of his self by her interference, controlling his state.

“Halt it,” a voice cut through the fog of his mind, shoes squelching as Jaehyun turned around and the spell broke, bodies dropping to the floor all at once, a sea of scarlet gushing out. He was panting, his silver tainted sight flickering in and out as he stared at the general in front of him, Ten’s eyes overcome with rage. “Why couldn’t you be more like your father, Yoonoh?”

“You knew,” he laughed, didn’t have it in him to do anything but laugh for the situation seemed too ridiculous. No wonder Ten had known all throughout, older than all of them and perhaps rivaling the witchers he already knew, recognized him on first sight, likely. A general, likely trusted by the king, the very king who had been friends with his father. “You knew all the time, didn’t you?”

“I had hoped you wouldn’t find it,” the older sighed, the burden of age interlaced in his tone as dark eyes fell upon his blessed and cursed blade, a question of point of views, whether one would describe it a gift or a bane. 

“You had hoped for a murderer to remain king.” Jaehyun’s voice dripped with venom, the poisonous tincture tainting his self. On his silent call, Bom morphed, liquid silver defying gravity as he grabbed the blade, flowing upwards instead of down to form a guard around his left arm. 

Ten might be playing against them, had ruined the plans Jaehyun hardly had kept track of himself, but he was an opponent he respected, a cursed creature older than them all, and the general’s words were but a reminder of it, “It is my malediction to serve the crown and until then, I won’t stop wielding my sword in their name, Yoonoh.” Words that ended in time for the first hit to come in, a common sword, because Bom was a cheat key he did not want to use.

“You knew my father,” he growled, syllables vibrating low in his throat as his eyes fixed on the smaller, hit after hit, his instincts directed by the weapon having turned into protection. She might lack power like this, not ruling his mind, a mere humane puppet with its strings played by her, it didn’t mean she was powerless anyways, that she didn’t borrow him knowledge, the ability to read through their dance of blades, the wish engraved in her silver to protect him at all cost. “And yet you betrayed us. Why?”

Hit after hit, even a general with the experience of a dozen lifetimes was forced back by the force, step by step, bit by bit, and none of the incoming soldiers dared intervene. “It was the most I could do not to give away your name,” the man swore, dark eyes wide with the thrill of a fight, skin as soaked as was Jaehyun’s. At a time like this, they were the same, two men betting their life in a fight, but they weren’t, not at all. “But I am obliged to serve the crown, Yoonoh, I am-”

The sentence never finished, metal piercing through his armor of black leather, not the steel of the lesser soldiers, for a man cursed with limited immortality had no reason to fear death. That was their difference, the core of their curse, one destined to keep living, one meant not to die. An outcome of their fight that had been scripted before their time, for magic would never lie. 

With a yell, Jaehyun pushed forward, further and further, until the older hit a pillar holding up the roof ahead of the throne room, metal slicing through, crying red, piercing a man to wood like an insect on a wall. Slowly, ink dripping into water, the water hitting their heads, the black of Ten’s orbs bled into white, consuming the whole of it until they were but balls of darkness, the infinite source of time. Blood sputtered as the general coughed it up, a grin of madness on his lips, sword clattering to the ground. “Even this won’t kill me, huh…”

Jaehyun did not reply, lacked the words to do so when they were so obvious. The king the cursed had served was not the real king, a faux, a joke, a relict of time when the crown had been worn by the right. Not even his tongue controlled by Bom was cruel enough to say it out loud, albeit he could see the non lenient truth in the older’s eyes when the rain drops washing the blood off their skin were yet again slowed down. Breathing nearly stopped, the silence was eerie around them, the soldiers befallen by his spell. Only Ten’s eyes remained attentive as they locked on him, unaffected by the blessing which was a curse, a curse that was a blessing, and the military general released no sound as his soldiers’ blood was splattered throughout the air. 

Exhaustion was catching up to him past the perturbed sense of time slowly, a vicarious contrast to the rush of power Bom gave him. Every drop of blood she consumed only strengthened her further but every life he claimed was wearing him down further. She felt heavy in his hand as he raised her once again, silver blurring into red thanks to the speed he used, walls covered in scarlet droplets, his steps turned bordeaux on untainted ground, wood soaked, life lost. 

It was lonely, fighting of his own, and he wished for the company he could not have for regardless of the strength of those surrounding him, they could never remain unaffected by her magic tainting time. When it came down to it, surely every war was a lonely one, regardless of its size, a brawl or a clash of kingdoms, it was a struggle of every man of their own. With a thousand blades in front of their eyes, no one had the time to look to their side, survival was a beast biting off everyone’s moral head, until only selfishness served for the cruelty of each battle, again and again. The selfish wishes of a ruler, sacrificing a thousand hearts in lieu of their own.

He was no better than them, could no longer be as he watched a guard’s head part from the belonging neck, ready to fly through the moment the moment the current wave of Bom’s spell lessened, like the sea against a cliff, there was violence and there was calm, time slowed down and running at normal speed again. It was impossible for him to tell, whether it was him who was too fast or everyone else who was too slow and yet, standing in front of a door familiar to him, it did not even matter. 

Visions flashed in front of his inner eye, the night these doors had parted to a hall illuminated by fire, the giant flame at its center, countless candles all around. The man with midnight blue hair cascading down his back, blood sweeter than all this sword had ever tasted and the limitations that kept her trapped all at once. Those hands that had held Bom that night, he wanted to slice them off, throw them into the pits of manic fire while the laughter of madness was ringing through the air. 

A cut of silver, gates slamming shut, and he had to return to reality in time to hear the falling weights, the dull thunk of a head crashing into a wall, loose of its body. Losing one’s head could be a tragic story indeed, dying for a king who would never care, too lost in selfish interest, more delirious than Jaehyun in his puppeteered daze.

“ _ Mine, my lovely Yoonoh, my dear _ ,” Bom whispered in his mind, silver strings invisible to the eye lifting his hand to press against the door, feel its might beneath his fingers, “ _ You won’t die. Risk it all, claim his head. You’re not allowed to leave my side any longer now _ .”

There were no more soldiers left within vicinity to protect the king, a lone man in the middle of the hall. His father had been, too, and wrath came down upon Jaehyun’s wrenched heart like a cloudburst after heated summer days, violent, intense. Unstoppable. The man who had ruined so many innocent lives, the man who had stolen the crown, the man who was in front of him at this second.

Step by squelching step, a track of red, he approached the faux king until only the burning pit of fire was left standing between the two of them. Eyes dilated, framed by silver, meeting the same shade of chocolate as had greeted him night and night again, lacking the warmth of Johnny’s silent spells. The eyes of the king were cold, corrupted by greed, painted by ire about plans having failed. They darted down, from Jaehyun’s face to the sword he held, and revelation demanded its place by the split second.

“He really-” The current king released a malicious laugh, head rolling back for a moment before those same brown orbs had closed off any sign of emotion, reflecting the fire stood between them. “To eradicate all magic off this world, what a blessing would this be! Get rid of more of these pests like your father who would rather lie to their king than speak the truth about their shitty offspring-”

In a fluid motion, Bom transformed again, a liquid pool of silver covering his hand as he reached for a dagger stuck to his belt, thrown at the older man with a yell of anguish. It connected, lead by the godly weapon back to his hand, stuck to the hilt in the royal’s shoulder and spilling supposedly blue blood. “You’re no king,” he hissed, eyes wide with madness he had never felt. The fire of fury burned brighter than the flames in front of him, consuming his body inside out until he could only see the silvery curtain that was Bom’s presence in his mind. “You’re a coward, not daring to look into the eyes of the man you murder. An embarrassment to the throne who would rather kill his own brother than resign to his fate. A poor excuse of a living being-”

Words accompanied by his steps, he had moved forward, around the pit of red to approach the king, sword raised high to claim the king’s head as he had been told but before metal could meet skin, he felt the force, invisible but strong. Wanting to move a mountain with bare hands easier than slicing through, it cut his words off, pupils dilating as he stared at the king, sneering at him.

“You really think it would be this easy, kid?” The older asked, voice the image of arrogance, and a hand painted black moved upwards to close around Bom’s blade. No, not painted black, Jaehyun realized as he looked closer, it was skin having turned dark, not like the hue of rotten meat but the color of a demon’s claw, nails too long to be human, screeching as they traced against the spotless metal. “You think your father is the only magician I would recruit? You need to grow up before you challenge me!”

A simple push, it should not be as intense, but the removal of the sword against royal flesh sent Jaehyun stumbling backwards, arm flying back with too much force to bear without an upset hiss. To elevate the strain on his shoulder, he had to twirl around, bending his knees to stop the momentum from sending him further away as he glared at the figure of the king. 

Poison, as black as the one tainting his own heart, as dark as the armor of his men, it claimed every noble vein, dying royal flesh back, engorging it, until only the golden crown remained. A crown not meant for this head placed higher than before, no longer a king but a demon, power borne on the assumption that magic was to be played with, a tool in hands who did not originally own it. Compared to a man like this, abusing its might, taking advantage of those who had no way to refuse, Jaehyun envied his own self, would rather stay oblivious of his abilities another lifetime than turn into this. 

“ _ Claim his head, _ ” the voice in his mind repeated again, louder, faster, more insistent, “ _ You can’t die with me in your hands. You’re not allowed to die, Jaehyun. You are mine and mine alone, you can’t- _ ”

Bom’s voice cut off as he had to dodge the same dagger that he had thrown flying his direction, bursting through the wood behind him with a force just short of tearing it apart. He felt it, instantaneously, the ire that was flowing through Bom at the thought of the only man who could swing her and satisfy her craving for blood to be torn apart by a monster’s throw, the dander that was white heat, searing his own self.

“ _ Mine!”  _ She yelled, screamed, again and again, a puppeteer gone mad, and he did not have the power to refuse her. The fight had drained his energy, had not been supplied by blood as had been her own force, but he did not dare reject the idea of it, of a world painted red, a world seen in hues of silver, stained by her essence in his blood, the blood that kept her sustained. 

Like fingers digging into soil, searching for treasures, creating a hole to bury one of their own, he felt Bom messing up his mind, looking through his reminiscences, analyzing his muscle memory, working at an intensity she had never before. She was fueled, more heated than she had ever been before, searing anyone but him who might dare touch her at this current time.

“I have sacrificed my children to beat you useless scum and I will do so again if it means to subdue you again and again, you meager roach,” the demon’s distorted words echoed through the hall, omnipotent, mind shattering. “I will not lose this crown of mine!”

With a weapon manifested from thin air, the transformed king stormed forth, a speed that would have been impossible to avoid if not for Bom’s pulsing spell, slowing time down sufficiently for Jaehyun to throw himself to the ground, rolling across hardwood floor at a level that allowed him to attack where no one would expect. What he cut was no longer flesh and bone, it was smoke as dense as the water rushing down a waterfall, fast and harsh, yet a liquid. The limb that fell away was like a fire put down, black clouds rising upwards until they faded thin, leaving but a humane leg behind.

“It is not your crown to wear!” He growled back, baring his teeth at the demon turning his direction, seeming unaffected by the lost limb. Instead of blood, smoke was fuming around the wound, trickling up, vanishing into nothing. Stronger, not invincibile. Eventually, even a god could be brought down. 

“Funny,” the demon sneered, eyes unseen yet digging into the fighter’s frame, “Your father said the same the first time I talked to him. Useless dreg like you, he was better off dying. But you! Do you know what were his last words too?”

Mind flashing back to the vision he had head despite Bom’s insistence, her call for his attention, her reminder to keep his attention directed at his enemy, he could not help it, the words tumbling off his tongue, “ _ May this kingdom flourish, may this crown succeed. May those under it obey and may the lithic throne stand still. May the ruler last, may the king not perish. May- _ ”

His words ended with a splutter, his eyes falling down to the blade which had met his own, metal against metal, even Bom’s speed had not been a rival to the demon’s force burying its blade into his guts. He could feel it scrambling his insides apart, the smoke that was filling his organs instead of the blood that was supposed to be there. The king’s laughter a distant echo in his mind, the might of his own weapon leaving him, running out of him like water flowing down the train.

“Finally! You and your father, you are just the same, bending to my will! I will never perish now! There is no more of your blood to stop me, to-” Johnny’s uncle’s manic laughter was halted by the godly sword’s outburst of power, lighting splitting skies, undiluted force. Jaehyun’s arm went flying by itself, following the demand Bom had shouted at him time and time again, silver cutting black, gold clattering to the ground, smoke shrinking.What fell to the ground was a human body, the traces of black magic blown away by the outside breeze coming in wherever. 

A clatter followed, Bom’s energy fading from his mind, her beautiful form on the ground instead. But she could not stop the bleeding of a blade that had disappeared, red that finally was his own soaking into his clothes as he helplessly clutched his scarlet hands against his core. Strength left him, had him falling to his knees as he stared at the golden crown on the ground. It would look beautiful on Johnny, the day of his coronation, wearing it proud and bright. 

How funny, after what must have been hours of agitated heat, he felt cold for the first time, felt it seeping into his frame as her warmth left him, no longer pulsing through him, her distant cry of despair. He didn’t have no strength no more, could no longer feel the impact of his own body crashing to the floor as his eyes traced the ceiling above him, trying to blink away the silver consuming his sight. At least, he considered, he would die holding onto someone who had also loved him...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A comparison I usually like to make in connection to my monster-length fics is that those who manage to read through them are the brave little fairies who battled the dragon successfully! I think in regards to this story it is rather well fitting, and I will once again point out that I am so, so grateful to everyone who actually reads this and managed to come so far! Every comment I received so far made me more than happy to read, so thank you so much!
> 
> As I'm almost finished with the epilogue and to give you all the time to read, I'll post the last part on Wednesday then!
> 
> I am once again pointing out all of this was only possible thanks to [Jiani](https://twitter.com/n_ikuman) and her fanart and you should all take a look at it too!  
> Meanwhile, my twitter is [here](https://twitter.com/starrymeis) in case you are curious about my writings and for questions here is my [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/starrymeis) too.
> 
> Thank you once more to everyone who read this part, too, and I wish you a great week!


	3. epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This... is the final chapter, and, actually, I can't believe I've come this far. Truly, woah!
> 
> First of all, thank you to everyone who kept up with this story for the short time it lasted! Really, every comment made me just so, so happy, and to know so many of you enjoyed it really made me happy as well! Makes these exactly 6 weeks of working on this definitely worth it (and, yes, I had to check haha). 
> 
> On another note, albeit a short part, I think I struggled with this one the most... Fingers crossed that won't be too outstanding. Mostly, though, I hope I was able to tie up most questions left open so find the answers yourself? Hoping you'll enjoy reading this ~
> 
>  **trigger warnings** \- explicit sex. mentions of drinking.

The bird chirping outside were too loud, a hasslesome wake-up call he had never asked for, the kind of bright noise he just wanted to drown out by pulling his pillow over his head. He didn’t often get a chance at sleep as satisfying as this one and he wanted to drag it out further, wanted to plunge back into the sweet haze of dreaming, of riding a horse through the woods uncaring of his surroundings, wanted to tumble over the sheets with Johnny by his side, wanted, wanted, wanted.

What he got were his arms feeling like lead, he could barely rise them off the silken sheets, an impossible deed. It made him grunt as he tried to turn to his side only to be faced with more weight than he could push, tackled to his back, just like the speared animal Ten had resembled at the end of their fight. The most he could do was turning his head away from the light streaming into the room, waging war with his heavy eyelids to finally get a glimpse of his surroundings and an explanation as to why he was feeling like childhood him buried in sand.

He couldn’t make out much, the ever familiar dark wood the buildings were made of seemed to outshine everything at first, until his sight focused enough so he could see a blurry head of white. “Tae...yong…” Yet another thing to add to his list of inconveniences, his mouth felt dry, throat sore, as if he had chewed on stale bread and gargled with sand, perched from a lack of hydration he could not explain to himself. 

A faint clutter of sounds he could still perceive but his eyes already fell shut again, the strain of keeping his lids parted too much for him at the current time. In lieu, he tried to strain his ears, faintly picking up on the steps taking the witcher closer and a heavy hand came down on his forehead, feeling his temperature, a soothing warmth spreading out, ghost of a motherly caress. The touch turned into such when the same hand moved to the back of his head to lift it up a bit before a small cup was pressed against his lips, sweetly tasting liquid running down his tongue and throat, tasting like honey and milk, lulling him into. 

“It will wear off in a bit,” a deep voice told him, one he could not recognize and Jaehyun had half a mind to feel panic, a sensation that would only be supported if he could actually move his limbs. Calm only washed over him when the stranger talked more, tone level to not stress his ears like those still chirping, entirely bothersome birds, “I’ll get Yuta. Please don’t move until then.”

Just like that, the warm touch was gone, a faint echo of a caress, and Jaehyun allowed exhaustion to wash over him once again. The last things he could remember were a haze of silver and red, splatters of blood, screams of agony, he couldn’t recall more than that even when it slowly came back to him. It was the trace of Bom’s spell, he could recognize that much, her force that kept the memories locked where they should remain, far away from his conscious and his morals, turning them into a distant echo of what had been. 

Flickers of what he could remember - Ten’s eyes consumed by black, the despair in those same eyes about having been denied death yet again, the raging pit of flames in this cursed hall of death, the fallen leg of the king - flashed by behind closed lids but what really got to him, past the hypnotizing flares of fire, was the yell of agony and the general’s orbs. Humans were not made to live on for so long, probably, they were not like magicians who carried the everlasting sense of magic in their veins, were not like gods who were made to watch over earthly happenings. Humans were meant to eventually die, not to bear the burden of being massacred again and again only to survive yet another time.

It was that trail of thoughts of that led him to another outstanding memory, the moment he had been stabbed too, sword piercing his guts, slicing through his skin and flesh and barely avoiding bone, the misty poison battling against Bom’s. He had felt cold when he shouldn’t have, he had cited the incantation of his father, the same words, the same magic, and it took no grand brain to see the connection. The sword drawing blood had been pushed through his body in the same way as had been done with the one naming him, but the heat of the night underneath the stars had been a distant call. Magic had failed him, it had been out of his reach, it had been taken away from him despite his words.

Despite the strain it put on his limbs, he raised his arm, felt for his abdomen covered in gauze, the dull ache that traveled up his spine, through his neurons. He had not dreamt it, he had been torn apart, he had been forced into a Blood Curse against his will, but here he was, surviving a deadly wound, and with the heat ever absent in his veins. 

The longer he rested his hand on his stomach, short of where he remembered the wound to be, the more he could feel the weight vanishing off his body. Truly, it was not much unlike waking up, the first glimpse of the day that had the bones feeling tired and sore until the first morning exercise woke one up well, and he was just about to push himself up into a sitting position when a shocked garble from the doorway stopped him.

“Don’t do that! Your wound is still sensitive, man,” the same voice as earlier yelled quietly, warm hands taking a hold of his shoulders before one strong arm moved beneath his back to push him up a bit, another cushion placed down to elevate his position without straining the wound. It wasn’t too much at first, only a second pillow below his head allowed him a more comfortable angle at the people surrounding him, and what had been one white bob of hair at first had now turned into three. Indeed, Taeyong was there, but so was Yuta, and who he assumed to be the stranger who was meticulously taking care of him, all with the hues of snow on their head, giving their standing away.

“What…?” He started carefully, looking into their varying expressions. The new one seemed to be the most relaxed out of all of them, flicking through some flowers to find whatever, while Taeyong’s age had once again caught up to him, exhausting the older, dark circles underneath dull gold, cheeks sunken in a bit, resembling the strain against death more then the joys of life. Yuta hardly looked better, more mirth in his eyes but leaning more onto his crutch than he had before Jaehyun’s departure, and it was more than worrying.

“What happened?” Taeyong asked, and at the injured’s nod, the witcher released a heavy sigh. “After you took off, Johnny went to find me, and just in time too. You had a hole in your stomach, Jaehyunnie, and no act of revenge should be worth as much… I’m no expert in healing techniques but I was able to stop your blood loss for the time being until Lucas arrived.”

“Man,” the seemingly youngest of the three intervened, and Jaehyun didn’t even bother turning his head with how tired he still felt, “That was a trip! ‘s been some time since I had to fight that kind of poison so it took some time. ‘s why I had to put you to sleep to delay the process.” The kid seemed to consider it for a moment, the break filled with the thumping of his pestling mortar, before adding, “You also thrashed around a lot. Was a double effect.”

That, at least, answered why he was alive, not the question of his lacking magic, and his eyes must have expressed his question rather well for Yuta showed him a wry smile upon catching his emotions. “That one’s on me,” he admitted but didn’t get much farther than that.

“He chose the wrong herbs for your tea,” the stranger - Lucas - frolicked, followed by the bubbling of water boiling, sizzling as it met with the crushed flowers and a spark of magic, “It didn’t actually aid your headaches, it suppressed your magic entirely. Makes you all the more a lucky boy. Who knows what kind of Blood Curse you might have started if you had talked at that time!”

Hearing those words, Jaehyun couldn’t help but tense up. Because he had spoken an incantation, he had been on the verge of fortifying the Blood Curse his father had already spoken into existence, had been so, so close to ruining all their hard work by dying at that moment and-

“Jaehyun.” Just his name, nothing more, but Yuta’s voice had always been well effective at pulling him out of his thoughts, readjusting his mind even in the midst of a fight. “It didn’t work. The faux king is dead and you are safe, don’t worry about it anymore.”

Bronzen orbs drilled into his own, reminding him to keep his sanity intact, and for a moment the younger couldn’t help wonder whether his father had ever been in the same situation. Perhaps, this was just one of the many questions time would be able to answer him, when he could finally dare pry into Yuta’s past entwined with his own.

Taeyong’s heavy sigh interrupted them and, a bit to Jaehyun’s surprise, the milky tea was not handed to him but the magician in question who took it with a tired smile. “We’re also here for another reason, Jaehyunnie, and I’ll need your answer as fast as you can give it to us. That day in the Meadows, before we found the sword-”

“I don’t want it,” he answered, not caring about much more, didn’t need to hear any more, because he had made up his mind since that very day, had come to a decision he only found supported by the recent happenings. He was not made to bear the crown and be king, he knew too little of this world, of this kingdom, of politics and strategy but, more than anything else, he was selfish. No king should be selfish, act out of his own interests, fulfill his egoistic needs like he had done that afternoon as he pursued his own vengeance regardless of the rivers of red he left behind. 

Johnny, on the other hand, would make a great King. A man who had wanted to salvage his country from his uncle’s cruel clutches, who had only the best interest of his people in mind, who didn’t even dare act selfish at times of lust and ecstasy. Maybe that was why Jaehyun had fallen in love with the prince, too. 

“Jaehyun…” Taeyong started again but the younger merely shook his head in denial. The crown would be a curse on his head, it was not a gift he had earned himself with anything but a head on a stake, a right acclaimed with brutality like animals in the wild. It wasn’t as it was supposed to be. Johnny had been the one who had originally had a right to it and that was the way it was supposed to go, that was where the crown was supposed to go, this beautiful circlet of gold.

With a sigh, the witcher dropped the topic again, lightly shaking his head before rosy lips touched his tea for one long sip of it. “Guess I don’t need to hold back the coronation anymore…” Shoulders sagged with relief, and the little gesture had Jaehyun smiling slightly as he watched the older for another moment. “Johnny will want to see you later so make sure you rest well until then, yeah? And eat something.”

Gently, Taeyong patted his blanketed food and raised his cup in gratitude towards the younger witch, prior leaving the room in exhausted steps. It was worrisome but before Jaehyun could question it, the former Academy’s referee spoke up, “He’ll be better in a while, he just needs a good rest as soon as possible. Trying to explain how a single man wiped out a whole small army or why we can’t yet announce a new king when already more than a week has passed…”

“Not easy,” Jaehyun mumbled with a little smile, those same words repeated by Yuta in an exhausted manner. 

“Well, you’re in good hands while we try to get a hold of the bureaucratic semantics,” the witcher grinned, sending an obnoxious wink at the younger. “I’ll have to look after the kids for now.”

“Are they-”

“They’re fine. Confused, more than anything, but you can meet them soon. For now, get friendly with Lucas some more. The kid has been tending to you well.” The magician was already on his way out, steps accompanied by the clacking of his crutch, and Jaehyun gazed at the closed door for another moment before he allowed his head to fall back and eyes to fall shut. 

“So aside from nearly dying,” he started, turning his head the direction of the healing witcher once again, “What else did I miss?” At least, he found out that noon, Lucas made great company indeed, brightening the room with his disposition, excitement thrumming below tan skin that only opposed the gentle treatment of wounds. Another great revelation was the lack of wounds aside from the stitched up hole in his stomach. One less thing to worry about, luckily. 

▁⛥⌒*ﾟ.

Steps echoed throughout the otherwise empty room, the royal library abandoned, everyone out and about enjoying the festivities of the day. There were too many, too much of everything, but the joy that radiated off the distant streets was palpable even from his elevated spot. On the second floor he had found a little place for himself, a sliding door that must have seldomly be used, more about light than space as the outside space barely offered a food in width, it made for a wonderful spot of observation.

Lucas had looked more like a wounded puppy at Jaehyun’s confession of where he spent most of his evenings than anyone else he had ever seen before but he thought it just, sitting leaning against the doorframe wasn’t exactly ideal to protect the wound that was still in a process of healing. Instead of trying to change his mind, though, the witcher had simply gotten him an abundance of pillows and blankets so he could rest there comfortably, and with how the story was told, the lone hero slaying the wicked beast of a king, no one working in the library had it in them to deny him access nor rest. All the less when they were all spending their times outside.

The capital, indeed, looked brighter after the fall of the prior king, dull black replaced with vibrant yellow, and interlaced by the red surfacing here and there. Originally, he knew it was the color of good luck, of a bright fortune, a better future, but recently and as he was still haunted by his own deeds, he didn’t see much more than the color of blood in it. For that reason he felt caged, trapped by his own nightmares, the images he would never be able to forget, because it had been him to commit such cruelty, and he had nobody else to blame. 

“Do you not want the crown?” Johnny’s voice cut through the silence behind him, a gentle whisper, before the prince lowered himself to the ground as well, head on Jaehyun’s lap, arm loosely wrapped around the younger’s waist. The coronation would take place the next day, it was too late to answer this question now, the old law Taeyong must have inevitably told the prince about after declaring him future king. 

Only with reluctance was Jaehyun able to tear his eyes away from the distant crowd, the innocent bystanders, the citizens who just celebrated the festivities as they were while word would still travel around, spreading throughout the country and claiming them all. What greeted him instead was the sight of his beautiful prince, covered in golden robes and red fox, the stunning image of royalty, he looked more mesmerizing than anything the fighter had seen before. To have such man within his arm’s reach, sharing his bed, kissing him good morning and good night, it was more of a blessing than any golden ornament could ever be. “I am not made to wear a crown, Johnny. I’m not made to be a ruler.”

Hurt flashed across the older’s face, interlaced with surprise, and it was a mixture of emotions Jaehyun found hard to digest and yet, it looked beautiful under the light of the candles, drawing wonderful golden specks into deep brown eyes, warm light on warm orbs. More than a crown he didn’t want to wear, he considered Johnny a blessing having entered his life, no longer the bother he treated the royal as at first. A royal who would look all the more ethereal with gold on his head, not burdened by it like the younger would have. 

“But do you want to rule?” The older asked, tilting into the fighter’s touch as his hand, no longer covered in red, drove through brown strands slowly, stopping minutely at the question that made his heart miss a beat. His eyes darted back to the city, this beautiful, wonderful city, the glorious capital of their lands, back to the countless citizens residing within their reach, and he felt frightened more than thrilled. 

“No…” He whispered, because if he messed up as the ruling king, he would be but an usurpator the moment he messed up, a vengeful spirit who had selfishly taken what was not his. He liked it more like this, when he was a crazy beast who had defeated the late king only to be tamed by the prince, a creature with a collar and a leash. All else was too terrifying, the idea of being responsible for this many people when all he had ever wanted was to care for the kids at the Academy, and it was still what he wanted to do most, not be responsible for many but take care of a few. There were only so many burdens one could claim, and the burden of the crown for sure was not his.

To do that, he could just get up, pack his things, take his leave. Yuta would come with him for sure, guide him into his future, and the other kids would too, Jeno and Mark and Renjun and Sicheng and Wendy but… No matter the consideration, his limbs remained in place, his heart betrayed his mind, because he already knew the Academy was no longer the place he was meant to be. “I just…” He sighed, the words felt wrong on his tongue, twisted and sickening when he had claimed so many lives but his wish remained, “I just want to protect them, Johnny…” Protect them in a way no one had ever protected him. 

Thinking back to not only his childhood but the kids back at home, their yells of joy as they had run around, contradicting the dulled excitement of those further within the lands, overcome by the reality that was the forceful wager of war. Thought of the blood he had spilled, not on the battlefield but within their own sacred walls, the deathly gargles of soldiers pierced on his sword. The mere idea that these kids might have to go through this too, not on their own accord but because they had been forced to do it, it was one he wanted to reject, a reality he did not want to see come true, and thus he could not stop, could not step down from his place by his prince’s side, could not leave them alone. 

It was not their burdens he wanted to take on nor that of the crown, it was simply their lives he wanted to protect. A jester was meant to entertain and he, blessed with a sword exploding with might, was the knight moved forth in a game of chess, a position that meant for him to be hurt so others could remain save, to sully his hands so others could stay clean. So Johnny’s, engulfing his and pressing it against his cheek, could stay clean.

“Protect them then, Jaehyun.” Shifting the younger’s hand on his cheek a bit, Johnny pressed his lips to the pale skin of the fighter’s wrist, allowing them to linger, sensing the steady rush of blood. “Stay with me, protect them, and wear the crown meant for the Queen I won’t ever have.”

Under different circumstances, he might have puffed out some air before insisting that it been him to kick the older’s ass to the ground one too many times, more often than they should even count, that he did not fit the image the general public had of a queen’s role. As it was, he was disarmed by the honest in Johnny’s eyes, the raw and unhindered affection, endless streams of love. And still, he shook his head in rejection before letting it fall down, watching the way his fingers seemed to contrast their match so beautiful, the paleness connected to nobility was failing as his skin was roughened up from fighting and the prince’s unmarred, uncaring of the bruises a fighter would carry away. 

“Not even if I ordered you to, darling?” Johnny asked, eyes warm, fingers tender, it was impossible to not feel like breaking apart and melting down, he was clay shaped by an artist’s hand, was at the prince’s mercy. He would be, if those words were to come true, but they both knew better, and his gaze directed at the older’s face again.

“You wouldn’t dare to…”

▁⛥⌒*ﾟ.

Going to the bath house every day was not as delightful as some might think, was the most relaxing in the earliest hours of the day when not many people had risen yet and the visitors were low in in count. In return, Jaehyun felt more grateful about the basin in the yard, the water brought in by the servants daily and this morning he had been lucky, it hadn’t been too cold after being exposed to the sun, just right to wake him up as he had washed his body with a wet cloth and rinsed his hair with soap. More blessed he could only feel by returning to their room, seeing the King crowned just the prior day, passed out in their shared bed and snoozing into the pillows hugged against his chest in replacement of the younger.

The whole procedure had taken up an entire cycle of the sun and parts of the moon’s, with how Johnny had gotten up early in the morning to get dressed, followed by the parade around the city, the ceremony that was their coronation lasting another few hours, it had still been topped by the nightly celebrations. A dinner, involving about all the officials, military and studious, the noblemen and -ladies who had scorned Jaehyun for his seat, the rich and influential hoping to seal a deal of business with the new King.

Jaehyun himself hadn’t stayed for long, after being excused from the earlier happenings to not strain his injury too much, he had only attended the dinner’s festivities, and that, too, for not that long. At the end of the day, the magic healing him was also using up a huge part of his own energy, not yet to mention the part where he had to wear off the effects of the tea, and the attention he garnered was only adding into this. Back at the Academy, the looks he had drawn hadn’t all been friendly, either, but they had all been fired up, carried by those who wanted to beat him or just to see a good fight. These royals, though, they were different.

More women than he had been able to count had easily scorned him for being the King’s gallant, a position they probably would readily take in hopes of getting an advantage towards marriage, and many more than that had been wary of him as well. Rumors, indeed, traveled fast around the place, and just who it had been when a few soldiers had survived or could remember the accusations, when he had been bound to the infirmary for weeks, was not too hard to figure out. In a way, they probably feared him, the beast to take down a small army all on his own, slaughter their late king, who was only bound by a collar and a leash by the recently crowned prince.

For those reasons and his exhaustion he had taken his leave early, sacrificing the big little lamb that was his royal lover to the hungry mouths of the wolves, and Johnny’s energy they had eaten up indeed. Guessing not only by the late time the older had arrived, when Jaehyun had already been dead asleep and barely roused enough to pull the taller into his arms, but also the exhausted state of the royal. It was a beautiful sight, though, muscled back revealed to the morning sun, contrasting the silken sheets spread across their bed, warm bronze against soft pearl. 

Getting up before Johnny wasn’t unusual for him per se, it had just been recently that his medication outlawed his insomnia, so he took joy in being awake first after a while, accompanying the change of seasons, the warmer weather that allowed them to show more of their skin. In those regards, they were just about the same, walking around their private quarters with little more than the thin pants worn underneath, the bandages in Jaehyun’s case against, albeit those were more for the use of preventing the salves from ruining his clothes than keeping his wounds save from the outside air. 

“Johnny,” he mumbled now as he dropped the moist towel he had dried his hair with onto a chest, approaching the bed just so he could climb on it and the prince right after. Straddling the asleep man’s hips, he placed a series of fluttering kisses to broad shoulders and a warmed up nape, gently nipping the skin until he felt the older move slowly. It was endearing, actually, how Johnny was hugging his pillow tighter to stuff his face into it, the little protest towards having to wake up. “Wake up, pretty boy. I owe you my congratulatory gift, Johnny.”

The older hummed lowly, seemingly a bit more attentive, if only Jaehyun had to go by the way the King was shifting his head, turning it to the side to mutter with his voice hoarse from talking and drinking, “I missed you yesterday… Why’d you have to go?”

“Because nobody wanted me there,” the fighter replied, amusement painting his tongue as he allowed it to trail a short little wet trace down the royal neck, nibbling on one of the protruding spine bones. After a second of consideration, he added, “Nobody but you anyways. Let me make it up to you,  _ darling _ .”

His fingers slowly traced up Johnny’s side, skipping past the little spots he already recognized as ticklish ones to find the sensitive ones, skimming along intercostal muscles, the deep indents of Johnny’s back. A wave of jealousy washed over him, simply because he had felt his own body softening with the lack of exercise he had been allowed to commit to recently, regardless of whether or not Lucas fed him special traits to decrease his loss of muscle. Simply lying around and eating well, he could feel it, and also appreciate the hardened flesh of his lover all the more.

Slightly the older squirmed, trying to arch his back and get more comfortable at once, although the friction against Jaehyun’s crotch had the latter hissing for after such a long time of little to no action, he felt more sensitive than he should. Then again, there had never been a time Johnny had not made him feel awfully sensitive, reacting to every little touch, to every point of contact between their bodies. So he reacted accordingly, ground his hips down harshly, and even trapped by fabric he could feel his dick slot between the other’s cheeks. 

This time around, it was Johnny to grunt in pleasure, stilling his hips to allow the younger to move, guide the rhythm, while slender fingers curled around the cushion to ground himself. “Is this my gift? Because if it is” - he hissed, feeling Jaehyun’s nails dig into his sides, leaving short angry welts on his skin - “I’d readily get crowned every day again.”

“You looked pretty in that crown,” the fighter answered, head coming to a rest on meticulously kissed skin, the slow rolls of his pelvis halting just so he could hear the older’s low and sulky whine. It made Jaehyun smile, just hearing this, the ready response to each of his actions and it aided him in ignoring the heat pooling low in his guts, how much his dick had already hardened between royal buttocks. But talking of the crown - he was more than certain that Johnny had still worn it until clambering into bed, tripping in his drunk state until he would fall onto the softer sheets and Jaehyun alike, metal digging uncomfortable into his skin but hair so tangled up in the metal wires it hadn’t just fallen off.

Almost he would have pulled away just like that, when the older’s shuffling around reminded Jaehyun that he had one overly ambitious man beneath him, which was the reason why his hand found home between Johnny’s shoulder blades, pressing him down. “Stay,” he demanded, and just to make sure the man holding the role of the king, of a man giving a dozen commands a day, would stay in his place, he first lifted his hand before he also raised his body. 

The crown was easily found, lost somewhere between the pillows, he only had to look around one of the cupboards next, find the oil he needed amidst countless scented waters the servants had placed there. This, at least, had been easier at the brothel at home, where they had either not needed it or given it to them in advance, not have them search for it with most of their mind being focused on the beautiful man in bed. He groaned in annoyance, pulling out a variety of the small glass containers until Johnny’s voice helpfully echoed from the bed, “Blue ribbon.”

But one had such marking, only shades of white and pink placed otherwise, and he quickly pulled the vial out to take back to the bed where he reclaimed his position on top of the older only to curl his fingers around the fabric hiding the last of the royal’s body. “Stay,” he commandeered once again while he reached for another pillow, a sturdier one, to place beneath Johnny’s hips to keep them in their slightly elevated place. Like this, he had a perfect point of view, of those wonderfully sculpted thighs, of skin a tad paler from never being exposed to the sun, of Johnny’s ass that was his today’s aim. 

“Be good and wear that for me,” he requested lowly and placed the crown on the older’s head, pressing a quick kiss to his lover’s cheek, another to his jaw, over to his ear, only to whisper, “Because you really look great in it.”

Johnny only snorted at that, eyes lazily opening for the first time as far as Jaehyun could recall, dark from sleep and lust. “Is that a new interest of yours? Fucking your King in a crown?” As daring as those words were, they were quickly broken by a surprised gasp as the younger pressed one finger against Johnny’s rim, rubbing against it slowly but with pressure, getting his message across.

“Might become one,” he admitted shamelessly before he sat up, grabbing the bottle of oil he had dropped onto the sheets once more only to pour a little amount of it onto the touched skin directly. Instantly his movements became slippery and easy, wetting his finger enough for him to dare push his finger in until the first knuckle carefully, awaiting a reaction before he could dare move further. More oil and with lots of gentle prodding, he not only pushed his digit in entirely but also got to making it a smooth movement, again and again, until the muscles were soft.

“More,” Johnny rasped out lowly, with his throaty tone, just as the younger had poured some oil over his middle finger, pulling his pointer out only to push in both at once. The King reacted immediately, releasing a loud groan at the sensation, arching his back, and Jaehyun could do nothing but take in the sight, frozen in his spot as he was mesmerized for the moment. Ever so often being at the receiving spot, he hadn’t realized how much he had missed out until then, as Johnny was thrashing so prettily, a sight he could easily get addicted on.

When the older pushed his hips back demandingly, Jaehyun took up on it quickly, returning his focus to the literal task at hand as he prodded his digits inside further, allowing his fingertips to explore the slicked up walls until he had found what he had searched for. A mewl surprising with its softness tumbled off royal lips, resounding sweetly within their room, so he made sure to remember the angle as he pushed at it time and time again. When he took a pause, it was only to have one finger press into Johnny’s sweet spot while scissoring the other to the side, spreading the older further apart in preparation of what was yet to come. 

He took his sweet time with that, rubbing against the older’s sweet spot, pulling apart his fingers, and he did not miss out on the way Johnny simultaneously rocked his hips back against fingers thick from fighting and ground down against the pillow, trying to get stimulation on his dick. It was mind blowing, how even stopping his own movements was not enough to halt the other from doing so, fucking himself open on his fingers in a slow and lazy yet deep rhythm, making the best of all he was offered. 

Like this, from this perfect point of view, it was impossible for Jaehyun not to notice his lover approaching his high, ass sucking his fingers in, body trembling with pleasure, hips undulating in an increasingly messy rhythm and, just then, just when he was certain Johnny might come, he placed his free hand on the low of the older’s spine. He pulled his fingers out, just as he pressed Johnny’s hips down, stopping any chance at movement and effectively cutting of his lover’s orgasm like this. 

Sweet whines echoed in his ears, the frustration he could hear in the older’s rough tone that sent shivers down his spine and reminded him of his own arousal throbbing in his pants. Jaehyun himself was achingly hard, he could feel how he had soaked patches of cloth with his precum, but he didn’t have it in him to any further care. Not when Johnny was just coming down from his interrupted high, quivers slowly subsiding, breath regulating, and the younger used the chance to slick up his fingers once again. This time he had poured oil on three of them, pressing them just softly against the King’s rim only to feel him jerking away from the touch.

“Jaehyun!” Johnny grunted, voice muffled from the cushion his face was pressed into, but the frustration was evident enough, the underlying craving for more, the wish to get touched, to not just be teased like this. “Are you really… going to play like this…?” Demandingly, he pushed his hips back again, allowed to feel the younger’s fingers sinking into him simply because they were not pulled away but neither did they penetrate deeper. “First the crown, now this…?”

At those words, Jaehyun only smiled amusedly, allowing his free hand to slide up the older’s spine, feel every bone beneath his fingers, the skin glistening and glowing from sweat. “You shouldn’t insult someone’s gift,” he purred, and promptly pushed his fingers in with force. Keeping Johnny in place with his hand splayed between those wonderful shoulders, just shy of curling around the royal nape, he set a harsh rhythm, needing but seconds to find the very same incredible angle again. Every single thrust elicited beautiful sounds, low moans and heavy gasps, his King trying to squirm free of his hold without any success, and it was back again, this magnificent rush of power only Johnny could make him feel.

Truly, it was indescribable, the power he was given at having their very ruler underneath him like this, desperate for his every deed at this current time, and the finely crafted gold was a constant reminder of that, the crown that represented the position the other held. The crown he was offered, too, but that looked so much more beautiful on Johnny, could never look as mesmerizing adorning anyone else. Trait of a demon, it was now a public’s gift, his gift, in a way. Better than any sign of marriage could be, this golden circlet was more proof of their connection than anything else could ever be. 

With more force than before, maybe because he had finally woken from sleep properly, Johnny tried to push against his hold again, and he would have succeeded as well if not the younger was at an advantage at this current time. He retaliated by pressing his fingers against the other’s sweet spot yet again, crumbling like a castle of sand in a storm, he was allowed to see his King fall down again, sinking into the sheets with a helpless gasp. 

“Behave!” The fighter demanded, eyes heated as he took in every inch of bare skin revealed to his sight, and simply because Johnny did not start another attempt, he gave him leniency in massaging his prostate again. Slowly he rubbed them up and down, meaning to tease his lover into another orgasm albeit at a slower pace, wanting to make it as excruciating as he possibly could. There was a thrill to it, even if he hadn’t done it before, nor experienced it himself, merely watching his King like this he considered it the most pleasurable thing, could not think of anything better than this.

This time, as the older approached his high, it was less about volume and more about the ever repetitive sound of Jaehyun’s name, as if saying it again and again would result in mercy, in not being robbed of his high once more. It was a useless hope, the younger decided then, as he felt Johnny clenching around his fingers, the little thrusts into the pillow that must look like an utter mess by then, and stopped right then. What followed was an abundance of curses that should never leave a king’s lips, each of them ignored as he poured more oil into his slippery palm to slick up his dick as well, pants pushed down just enough.

All too well Jaehyun could see the strain he had put on the older by then, knuckles turned white from how tight his fingers had clawed into the pillow, fabric wet from spit and maybe tears, how he struggled to keep his legs down and hips in place, refusing to finish from simply rutting into the pillow beneath, skin glistening from sweat, shining a pale gold with how the sun was shining onto it. “So beautiful,” the younger mumbled, placing a few kisses against quivering thighs to placate his King into enduring a bit more, “So good for me.”

Johnny always was, always so good for him, so willing to go along with his every wish, be it to spar at the dead of night or staying in bed for a little while longer, be it to be given so much freedom or simply the way the older was easily parting his legs for him early in the morning. Everyone had their limits, and Jaehyun wasn’t surprised to find Johnny had hit his, opening his eyes glistening from tears of pleasure and bleary by lust, dark with intent, as he pressed out, “Don’t you dare-”

The rest was, simply by the younger pushing inside, one easy thrust with how the other’s muscles gave way, hole willingly opening up for him after relentless teasing, allowing them to connect like this. It was special, not only because it was so incredibly good, but because this was their first time like this, to be joint in such intimate way that it had Jaehyun’s will break for a second. The sensation was overwhelming, dick squeezed warmly, something he had never perceived before and, at the same time, his heart sweltered with warmth, the affection that bloomed bright within his chest. 

“Fuck,” he grunted, supporting himself on one hand next to Johnny’s head, fingers curling around the tense fabric as he tried to gather his senses again, to return to the reality that was more than this moment, than stopping in this second of time. “Fuck…” He muttered once again, lowering his weight carefully into a more comfortable position, arm bending so his lower arm was on the sheets, head dropping against the older’s shoulder, sweaty skin against sweaty skin, and yet he was searching for more of that proximity again. His free arm wrapped around the other’s waist from underneath, pulling the King against his chest until their bodies left no air in between.

Carefully he shifted a bit, trying to find a comfortable angle to start his thrusting at once, moving his hips slow and deep, grinding in hard and profound. As intense as it felt for him already, he could only imagine how much more Johnny would feel, brought close to orgasm not only once but twice, and considering the second time had already taken less than the first, he wasn’t surprised to hear the older’s breath get ragged so quick again. Heavy and fast, the strain taking its toll, pleasure washing over them with every single thrust. 

“Jaehyun,” the royal cried breathlessly, pushing back his hips earnestly, trying to feel more, dick still trapped against the pillow that only added more to the teasing, “Too- Too much…”

So little words, they still had an effect on the younger who let his hand travel lower, trace against hardened abs until he could close his fingers around Johnny’s hard cock, feeling hot to his touch, veins throbbing angrily, twitching aggressively. One jerk down and up, a flick of his wrist, and already did he feel wet warmth spill across his palm, the proof of the orgasms he had continuously cut off until then. 

Raw madness was the sensation of Johnny clenching around him at that moment, insides tight, hot and wet, the most sensual thing he had ever felt around his dick. Yet, it was not enough, too little of the stimulation for his own high just then but it did not mean he was willing to be cruel to his lover, body surely sensitive from too much of about everything by then. It felt like utter masochism, to pull out when he had not yet finished, was not spared a high as if it were destiny’s cruel way of avenging his earlier sadism as well.

With a heavy breath, Johnny turned around, one leg moving intricately to maneuver around the younger, and Jaehyun felt air punched out of his lungs right as his gaze fell down onto the older for real, the flush adorning his King’s chest, drawn all the way up to his beautiful face, lips bitten raw, eyes puffy from sleep and wet tears alike. The very image of debauchery, a creature of lust, it seemed to befit his own acclaimed trait of violence.

“C’m here,” the older ordered, sounding way more like the ruler he was, regardless of how exhausted he was, as he used his strength to pull Jaehyun upwards, into straddling his chest, and hand closing around the fighter’s length. Johnny’s eyes were burning with lust, tongue licking along his lower lip, before the very pair of closed around the younger’s dick. 

Most definitely, the angle wasn’t the most perfect, but it felt so incredibly good nonetheless, lust shooting up his spine in the form of electric sparks as he dropped his head forth, gazing down at his lover’s face. Crown askew, cheeks red, lips swollen, eyes dark. It was impossible to resist, only so withholding the urge to claw his dirty fingers into soft brown hair to alleviate his little thrusts forward, deeper into Johnny’s mouth. What the older couldn’t take, he covered with his hands, matching Jaehyun’s rhythm, responding to his needs.

It was the sight more than the sensation, his pliant pretty King, that drove him over the edge finally, spilling into his lover’s willing mouth, a droplet or two escaped, and it was the image to drive any man insane. Before he had realized, overcome by pleasure still, words spilled past his lips he hadn’t meant to said but there they were, weighing heavily in the air between them, “I love you…”

And, it was funny, because it wasn’t like he hadn’t heard about Johnny’s feelings before, as if he didn’t know about his worries towards their future together, but his shoulders still sagged with relief as he saw affection blooming across the older’s face, eyes filled with warmth before they changed to mirth and the royal teased, “Are you saying that because you just fucked my ass or came in my mouth?”

Jaehyun couldn’t help snort at that, carefully unfolding his cramping legs so he could fall into the sheets next to his King, turned onto his side to be able to watch his lover with rapt attention. “Maybe,” he teased, tender smile growing on his lips as he confessed, “But mostly just because I mean it.” And he did, no doubt there, neither did he regret having said these words, regardless of his lack of intent towards speaking them. Now it was too late, he’d have to deal with what he had done, and if only it could make Johnny smile as brightly as this again, maybe it was not that bad.

“Good to know,” the older replied, turning onto his side as well, a little wince on his lips, “Because I love you too, Jaehyun.” Fingers, cleaner than Jaehyun’s, moved to caress against pale skin, tracing flushed cheeks, ruddy and swollen lips. “More than you can imagine.”

“Good to know,” the fighter mimicked, smiling softly as he leaned in for a tender kiss. Because now there was no parting anymore, bound by fate, he was a beastly creature on a leash, and if only this leash was made of love he would no longer care. “But for now,” he started, jestingly, “How about we clean you up?”

“Hm,” Johnny hummed, plopping down onto his back again, “I can’t move anymore, though…” Then, with worrying eyes, turned his gaze to the bandages wrapped around the injured middle, where the wound was covered up by gauze.

Jaehyun only smiled at that, trying to wordlessly reassure his beloved as he moved out of bed, feeling the blissful soreness of strain in his thighs as he moved about and towards the door, stopping to wink at his King in a teasing manner. “Good think I’m willing to obey your demands for now, my King.”

This time, it was Johnny to release a curse, throwing back his head, and leaving Jaehyun with the question of whether he was the only one getting a thrill out of this crown. 

▁⛥⌒*ﾟ.

After nearly one month of not being allowed about any sort of exercise, Jaehyun truly considered climbing the stairs up the cliffs one of the most torturous things to ever have experienced. Maybe third only to beginning horse riding, this horrible feeling of chafing his legs, and the first beating he had been forced to take at the Academy when he had so cruelly overestimated himself at that time. Now his thighs ached because he had not put them to work for so long, had been lazing around in bed and while he did understand where Lucas was coming from, it didn’t mean it was an occurrence happier in any way.

By the time he had made it up the cliff and towards where he had been told the training grounds would be, his legs felt strained already, as if he had taken a whole run and not just a walk around the palace and up some hundred or so increments. Not that he had counted, or anything. 

The closer he got to his aim, the more he could hear the familiar bustling of fights going on, clacking of wood against wood, the heavy thuds of bodies hitting ground, the grunts of pain and competitiveness. All too easily it got the blood rushing in his veins faster, too, the familiar craving for victory, to measure himself with these fighters, as his fingers wistfully caressed along the black streaks on his lower arm. 

Some days ago only the inking had appeared, a tree painted on his forearm where usually Bom would reside, the roots fading out into the veins on his hand, crown forming nearly a full circle below his elbow, and it had taken him a while until he realized what it stood for. The one to still his bleeding that day, he had belatedly realized, had not only been Taeyong. By parting from him, Bom had slowed his agitated heartbeat again, lowered the rate at which the blood had ran through his veins, and possibly bought him another few moments. She couldn’t let him die, it was impossible. And he hadn’t seen her since then, hadn’t dared ask about a magical weapon when that said weapon had also slain the previous king. Now though, now he knew where she had been hiding all along, he just didn’t want to think about how she had gotten there. The response came in a heated pulse along his skin, making him hiss. 

It made sense she had appeared only now, as if she wanted to put her mark on him in a way that would not fade, unlike the lovebites decorating his skin that would pale by the passing day. She was possessive like this, and for once he wouldn’t hold it against her so long as she didn’t interfere with his life, or he’d need to consider where to find a stone big enough to bury her again. 

Fingers still tracing the fine black lines, he hadn’t even realized he had arrived to the training grounds, the far stretches of sand spread all over the ground, until he had actually gotten there, sun low on the sky blinding him but not sufficiently to miss out on the sight. Like a silent calling, of the sand for him to curl his toes into, of his body to do it again, of his fingers yearning to form fists and hit skin. More than the sailors, these men would give him a proper fight, now that nobody was put under his spill but, at the same time, as the first guard noticed him, the place seemed to die down. People halting, lowering their hands or imitate weapons, looking at him expectantly, as if he’d break the ban.

He didn’t know how, didn’t realize just why they were like this, whether it was for they fought he had been sent by the King, was bringing in his own critique, or whatever else it might be. What he did recognize, though, were the arms wrapping around his shoulders as a weight collided with his back in a jump, laughter ringing in his ears along with the familiar scent of lion’s-tooth surrounding him. “Jae! You’re back, man!”

“Back,” the older grunted, before he shifted to throw Mark off who easily rolled over the ground and got into a kneeling position to stand up, “And better.” His arm patted against his stomach softly, the wound closed, bandages off, and while the skin was still ruddy and sensitive around the forming white scar, he hardly noticed the pain anymore. Lucas had recommended him not to take it too hard for another few weeks but nothing spoke against basic exercise. Only sparring and hits to the abdomen might be a bit risky for now. “What are you doing here?”

Not that he wasn’t happy to see Mark around, after they had visited him at the infirmary on his second day, he hadn’t seen much of the kids, but the placement seemed too off. Mark, whom he had bought out of the Academy, now on royal training grounds? It didn’t exactly make sense to him, but as the younger pointed to Jaehyun’s right, it was just in time. He was allowed to avoid Jeno’s tackle like this, the boy like an overly excited puppy again and again, to have it followed by a rushed hug anyways. 

“We were bored without you!” The youngest pouted while plopping down onto the ground next to Mark, and Jaehyun wanted to do the same, would have done the same, if not for the soldiers still looking at him with gazes varying in distaste and apprehensiveness. They were still waiting for him to do whatever they wanted him to do, all the while he had no idea who to talk to to consult about this anyways. “Just let them be,” Jeno answered, picking up on his unease, and it didn’t sit well with Jaehyun that well, “They’ll settle if they realize you’re not here for bad reasons.”

“No. The opposite.” The older slightly smiled before he crouched down, arms around his knees and keeping his balance in check as he looked at the adolescents in front of him. Before, he had still been dazed and now he could see better how they had matured, their eyes holding more clarity within them Jaehyun had wished to hold off for a while longer back then. He had also gotten to know finally where they had been sticking around, that mysterious fiance of Donghyuck’s, and he had almost spat his wine into Johnny’s face when he had heard. Of all people, of really all possible people, their golden boy was betrothed with the daughter of the king he had slaughtered, and with two severed limbs there was no better way to put it anymore. 

“Suffering withdrawal symptoms?” Mark asked, eyebrows pulled up a bit and nose scrunched in that endearing way jaehyun had missed more than he had realized. Regardless, he nodded his head in agreement before planting his chin on his arms, thoughts spiraling back to the question of just where he could start, with how he probably would not withstand a fight in his current state. 

“Let’s introduce you to someone,” Jeno suddenly changed topics, waving his arm around hectically to gain the attention of another blond boy some several yards away. Throwing his opponent to the ground, the stranger quickly hopped closer, and the oldest frowned. The new kid looked familiar, although he wasn’t able to place that pretty face just yet. “Jaehyun, this is Jaemin. Jaemin, Jaehyun.”

“I’ve heard so much of you!” Immediately the boy named Jaemin started gushing, nearly folding in half to bow a few times unto Jeno simply tugged him down by the clothes, sitting the new addition down between Mark and him. “Johnny has told me a lot! I feel like I already know you, too!” Lightly, Jaehyun raised an eyebrow, and the boy corrected himself, “I don’t, yet, but… you know! I mean, I probably should be upset with you because you were the one to kill my father but-”

The rest of the kid’s ramblings faded out as Jaehyun’s ears rang with the revelation of that, skin paling as he realized where he had seen Jaemin before. During the coronation celebrations, they had sat at the same table and yet he had not realized, had been too distracted by Johnny’s looks and Taeil murmuring into his ear about who was who. A wave of nausea washed over him as he had to find another red thread of the story, the words of the late king and the simple fact there once had been five siblings, and now only two were left.

“-basically family, right?” Jaemin’s eyes were so big and hopeful, so very bright, Jaehyun couldn’t help but smile slowly. At least, he considered, it wasn’t wrong. If Jaemin and Yeri were Johnny’s cousins, they were pretty much tied by a knot of fate already, the same fate he now found laughing into his face when considering that his kids, of all people, had befriended that same prince. There really was no way to ever escape this family…

His head dropped heavily onto his arms as he took a deep breath, trying to sort through this mental turmoil he knew was making Bom agitated, he could feel hear excited thrumming beneath his skin, but he pushed it aside. What startled him was the sound of Mark moving, the worry in the younger’s wide eyes that reminded him he might be misunderstood as being in pain again, so he quickly shot the boy a look. “ _ I’m fine _ ,” he mouthed quietly before he pushed into a standing position. 

Working a sweat had always helped him sort his thoughts, and there was a training area right next to him to work at, so it would be a waste to not make use of it. First, he slipped out of his shoes, then he got rid of his shirt, and whereas he could see Mark’s eyes transfix on the fading wound mark below his ribs, Jeno got the hint and already moved to stand up as well. Some curious eyes were on them again as they looked for a free spot to start warming up, something Jeno sure wouldn’t need to do any longer but accompanied him for out of courtesy.

“Jae!” Mark called as they stepped away, and the blue haired turned his head to look at his younger friend, “Don’t overdo it…” He gestured at his own stomach, and Jaehyun didn’t miss out on it, giving Mark a reassuring smile.

But, only to tease the other some more, he shouted back, “Where did you leave Renjun behind?” He had yet to pay Wendy a visit, too, but that could wait for longer. At least, with Jeno and Mark around, he was quite certain it wouldn’t take long until he would find Sicheng around too, and that idea made even warm-ups seem nice suddenly. 

▁⛥⌒*ﾟ.

Exactly whose recommendation it had been to hang a hammock into their garden was beyond his memory but that didn’t make it any less a delightful place to spend his time. After the servants had hung some paper lanterns into the tree, too, by his request, he found it a cozy place to spend his evenings, sometimes he spent them in solitude just watching the stars from between branches and leaves, a handful times he had also sat there with his father’s scriptures. They were interesting, mostly, some reading like a diary, his parents’ daily life or progress and revelations about the handling of their shared magic.

It helped him, to get some basic idea of how everything worked for the time he could not yet practice himself albeit Yuta had promised him to start some lessons once he had returned Lucas to his respective teacher. To know such eloquent young witcher was still being taught himself had surprised Jaehyun, to say the least, and made him realize again just how much there was to this world he did not yet know about. The interest he hadn’t felt in a world limited to his little port town was suddenly burning bright as he had seen how grand just their own home could be. A home that no longer was their three pillars of fighting, drinking and fucking but so much more, that consisted of more towns than he had seen, more people than he could ever know. There was more about himself than he had originally known.

This night, once again, he held his father’s scroll in his hands, playing with the little blue star dangling off one end, reflecting the yellow light of the lanterns from above prettily. He had read it once, twice, then again, and after more than six times starting over he had still not grown tired of it. But now, rather than reading it once more, he simply wanted to think about it, indulge the little memory he had of his father, when all else was still vague to him. Unlike what had happened the first time during his visit at his original home, he hadn’t had another flicker of passed times return to his mind, albeit he could still hear the trickling laughter of his mother in his ears if he focused enough.

Grass rustled as feet moved through it, something Jaehyun didn’t spare a lot of attention to for at this time, one single person would seek him out for company and, truly, a moment later Johnny’s heavier weight pulled the middle of the stretched linen down, making Jaehyun’s position the slightest bit uncomfortable. “What are you doing, darling?” The King asked, stripped off his royal robes into clothes more befitting of their private setting. A bit of shuffling, and he was sat sideways, upper body coming down to rest on top of the younger’s who was misused as a pillow instead. One foot on the ground, Johnny swayed them around a bit, looking at the other’s illuminated face.

“Thinking,” Jaehyun mumbled, lowering one hand to curl his fingers into brown tresses, combing through the soft strands. “About my father’s thoughts.” He hesitated for a moment, his gaze falling upon the little star dancing in the air still, twirling this way and that, shining a dull gold. “He wrote about what happened… To explain it to me,” he summarized quietly, and frowned lightly before he added, “And you, I guess. Maybe he knew what would happen…”

“What did he write?” Johnny moved one hand about, tracing a few of his lovebites painting the younger’s skin, pressing into him despite knowing the effects it would have. More so, when he could sense Jaehyun’s breath hitching, sensitized skin teased further. 

The fighter released a little protesting grunt, not being able to focus as much with these bittersweet distractions that seemed so misplaced when considering what the topic of their conversation was. It took a bit unto Johnny let up, and only then did he continue, “He wrote about how much your father meant to him, how they spent so much time together, made so many promises to each other… The first time your uncle approached him, he didn’t say anything about it because your uncle didn’t have much to go from but threatening my mother then pregnant with me. He must have worked on it, so when he returned, he had more to use against my father and told him that he should help him claim the throne. He had never…” He released a breath, remembering what he himself had felt when his memories had first returned, the nausea about having claimed so many lives. 

Johnny didn’t pry, allowed him to take a moment to align his thoughts again, “He hadn’t thought it would include your father’s death… But after giving in once, my father had no other outlet… Your uncle had become king and held all that power, there were my mother me and therefore two lives he could lose… I think he sent us away after that, he wrote how he had requested Yuta’s help on something, and that he felt regret overcome him whenever he heard about you… That he had wished for you and me to become friends in a better world but this one…” Wryly, he smiled, and lowered the scroll to his chest, next to where his King was resting, paper a finger’s width away from Johnny’s cute nose so he didn’t resist the urge from flicking his finger up to nudge it. 

To him it had been funny at first, that his father had apparently been bothered by those same thoughts that had haunted him, too. The thoughts of whether or not Johnny and him would have been friends had his uncle never interfered, whether they would be in this same kind of situation now. It was an interesting experiment, turning the different options over in his mind, and at the end of it it didn’t matter anyways, not when all that mattered was to have the other in his arms now. 

“He apologized to you, too. Saying that what happened to your father… It’s not something he would have done voluntarily, and if he had known, he’d have rather given his own life than sacrifice his best friend’s,” he whispered, the words that had resonated within his heart with all the pain his father must have felt, agonizing and hurting, he wasn’t shy about admitting to having cried about it as well. It was unimaginable, that this much had happened back then, so much hurt and betrayal, the lack of heart Johnny’s uncle had shown, and the tiniest part of him wondered whether his father hadn’t felt relief at the moment of his death, for no longer having to suffer all this guilt.

Silence settled over them for a short while, both hanging after their thoughts for the time being, to ponder and twist these words in their mind. Jaehyun had already anticipated their night to fade out like this, in silence, until either Doyoung would catch them on his way home from nightly studies, or one of them would doze off and thus mark it their time to go to bed. 

So when Johnny spoke up, it seemed more than surprising, startling him slightly as words cut through their quietness softly, “He would have done the same… My father, I mean. He would have sacrificed himself too for yours.”

“How do you know?” Jaehyun asked, thumb caressing along the little harless curve behind the older’s ear, brushing the shorter hair upwards slowly. He liked it like this, with Johnny close to him, responsibilities of the crown and the sword forgotten, with a lack of interference that came with early mornings, stuck in their little bubble of just them. For the same reason he liked this little spot, how it became their sanctuary at the end of a tiring day, where hardly anyone would dare disturb him. Actually, it was just Doyoung who would do so, insisting Johnny would need to rest for the next day.

“Because I would do the same for you.”

He stopped the movement of his thumb as he looked down, into this honest and warm brown eyes, filled with affection and love, with all these emotions that had his heart halting for a moment and his skin tingling with delight. A smile spread on his lips, little and tender, but there, and he wanted to reward these words as well.

Only he ended up regretting that a moment later, as his sitting up without warning disturbed the balance of their hammock and sent them both tumbling to the ground, rolling around for a moment in the grass until Jaehyun found himself straddling his beloved’s lap. For a second, they just looked at each other, followed by muffled laughter bubbling up between the two of them, and lasting throughout their short messy kiss. 

When they had calmed down enough, when their amusement had ebbed out and their kiss was no longer a staccato of little pecks, Jaehyun sobered up the slightest bit, allowing their lips to meet for a prolonged time, before he confessed, “I wouldn’t allow it. For as long as I stay by your side, I won’t allow you to die, my King.”

Against the younger’s lips, Johnny smiled. “ _ My King _ ?”

“My love,” he corrected, and leaned in for another kiss. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand, this wraps it up! I hope it was a good enough ending to all of you, and if you do have any questions left, please feel free to ask them!!
> 
> I will take this chance to point out that the reason I made this a series is not only because I'm planning on doing a little extra that holds some headcanons for this story I was not able to include (please!! if you have any wishes - throw them at me! be it a pebble or a boulder, I'll gladly accept all of them!) and also because I had the idea of a modern times continuation which I hope to be able to write in summer. If you have any thoughts, I'd gladly perceive them!!
> 
> Once more, all my appreciation goes to [Jiani](https://twitter.com/n_ikuman) and her lovely art, and to all my friends who had to bear with me whining, complaining, and asking for help and opinions! Whoever bears with me like this truly deserves an award.
> 
> Finally, if you want updates on my writing, I'm always rambling on [twitter](https://twitter.com/starrymeis) and you can always send me your questions and/or thoughts on [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/starrymeis) too! (I'm also always open to suggestions, not only this story but little drabbles as well.)
> 
> Thank you so much to every one of you for enjoying, commenting, and even just reading! I appreciate all of it a lot ❤️


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